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TRUE 


DETECTIVE STORIES 


BY / 

MAURICE koSER 


LATE INSPECTOR OF THE CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION DEPARTMENT, 

GREAT SCOTLAND YARD 


AND CHRONICLED BY 

CHARLES F. RIDEAL 




,4 


NEW YORK 

JOHN W, LOVELL COMPANY 

150 WORTH ST., COR. MISSION PLACE 



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Copyright, 1890 , 

BY 

J. W. LOVELL CO. 




Deb f cation* 


To 

HENRY LABOUCHERE, Esq., M.P. 

Sia 

You have on many occasions taken a con- 
siderable personal interest in various matters (not 
even overlooking those which might appear at first 
sight to be of minor imi)ortance) requiring reform. 

In respectfully dedicating this little work to you I 
feel that I shall not have written in vain if it should 
be the means of drawing your attention to the Crimi- 
nal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard, the 
system and administration of which would be none 
the worse for a little looking into. 

I am, Sir, 

Your obedient servant, 


MAUKICE MOSER. 


t 


✓ 


\ 





CONTENTS, 


Dedication... 

Inteoduction 


PAGl 



CHAPTER 


I. How I Became a Detective 

II. Revolution, Robbeky, and Revenge 4fi 

III. Among the Fenians : An Episode of the Mansion 

House Outkage 70 

IV. “ On the Hiee System ” 91 

V. AQueee“Cuss” 107 

VI. In the Caepathian Mountains : A Hungarian 

Romance 120 

VII. A “ Long Fiem ” 128 

VIII. “Cheque-mated” 137 

IX. A Peculating “ Samson ” 150 

X. “ On THE High Seas ” ... 159 

XI. “ Wanted FOB Muedee” ... ... ,,, ... JU 



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TRUE DETECTIVE STORIE& 

HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 

I 'found myself early in life — ^through the untoward 
ac't of a defaulting trustee — financially crippled and 
thrown suddenly and entirely upon my own 
resources. 

I had not received the benefit of any commercial 
training whatsoever, as it had been hoped that my 
means would prove sufficiently adequate to enable me 
to live, if necessary, without work ; and though fortu- 
nately blessed with a certain amount of innate 
business ability, felt that existence for me was likely 
to prove tedious and precarious unless something 

turned up,” and that, whatever it might be, pretty 
quickly. 

I looked round about me, tried my hands at all 
kinds of what-I-could-get-hold-of sorts of occupations, 
chiefiy of a clerical character; but work as I might, 
strive as I could, what with the excessive competition 
in the fields I was labouring, and my own personal 
dislike to the duties — such as they w ere — I had to 
fulfil, I discovered it to be a difficult and discouraging 
struggle indeed. I could just exist, and that was all. 
As to advancing my position or saving money, or 
seeing the faintest glimmer of a hope that ^^some- 
thing ” which I had so ardently wished for presenting 
itself, seemed out of the question altogether, and 
matters became decidedly and increasingly serious. 


16 


BETBCTTVB STORIES. 


Some kind sympathiser — one of the unpoetical and 
rigidly practical kind — suggested the army, and I 
gave that proposition — as members of Parliament say 
— “my most careful consideration.” But the soldier 
of Great Britain, admire him as I do for his pluck, 
earnestness, and patience, is not by any means a 
mortal to be envied. He has at the best of times a 
rough-and-tumble sort of life, performing a maximum 
quantity of irksome, troublesome work, called duty— 
for a miserable, microscopical remuneration, ironi- 
cally termed pay. I am fond of this country — ^may 
its great and glorious shadows never grow less — very 
fond; in fact, I have a liking for it which might easily 
be construed into patriotism; but with all my affec- 
tion and admiration I could not prevail upon myself 
— do what I would — to assist in its proper defence, 
and place my life at the disposal of the first un- 
righteous enemy which might present itself for the 
munificent recompense of about a few halfpence per 
day, which is the amount generally handed to our 
soldiers after deducting the cost of their rations, 
socks, pocket-handkerchiefs, postage stamps, cigar- 
ettes, and the like. 

I wasn’t tall enough for the higher (please excuse 
this expression, it is really not intended for a play 
upon words) and better paid class of military, the 
Guards, and should (had I enlisted) have been rele- 
gated of the full rank of the genus Atkins of the 
Infantry. 

Well, there were other things to do. Of course 
there were, for those who could do them; as, for 
instance, f)mnibuses and cabs to drive, papers to sell, 
and crossings to sweep, and so forth; but, alas, al- 
though T could speak well, and write easily no less 


now I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


17 


than five different languages, I had not received any 
training whatever for these duties, and to attempt to 
take up any of them without a due preparation, and 
without knowing one’s London and its ways peculiarly 
arid extensively, would be absolutely profitless. 

Happy thought! the inspiration of a young, suc- 
cessful, far-seeing, though withal romantic friend. 
Why not become a detective ? Ay, why not ? And 
the thoughts of Fouche and other unspeakable and 
unreachable heroes in the heights of investigating 
fame dazzled me. Before many hours had elapsed I 
had despatched to the Scotland Yard authorities a 
letter, stating, in a somewhat laudatory manner, that 
I was very ambitious to become a detective, a part for 
which I believed nature and my present circum- 
stances had expressly intended me for, &c., and a 
great deal more or less to the same effect. 

After some days — ^the Governmental officials of this 
country never hurry themselves in replying to com- 
munications made to them; it wouldn’t do if they did, 
for it would fail to look “official” if an ungraceful 
haste were indulged in; besides there is nothing like a 
little delay in these matters, as it gives the patient, 
unwearying British taxpayer an opportunity of being 
impressed by the ponderous importance of the many 
departments of the service, and he thinks that he is 
getting something for his money, even if it should 
only be the privilege of waiting the greater part of a 
fortnight or so for a reply to a simple request which 
an ordinary business establishment having ten times 
the amount of correspondence, and only half the 
number of hands to deal with it, would readily and 
easily give by return of post — I received a reply 


18 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


something to the following effect, printed on a fools 
cap sheet of paper: — 

Whitehall Place, S.W. 

‘‘ To Maurice Moser, 

III414, Blank Street, 

Camden Town, N.W. 

‘‘In reply to your application, if you are steady, able 
to read and write, are not less than five feet seven inches 
in height, nor over thirty-five years of age, and have not 
more than two children dependent upon you for support, 
you should fill in the enclosed form, giving references, 
and return the same to me. 

“ (Signed) ABC-XYZ, 

“ Chief Commissioner of the Police.;' 

I was a little bit staggered when I received these 
two formidable documents, wondering whether 
Pouche' and my other heroes were ever requested to 
favour the authorities with height, age, references, 
and particulars respecting their progeny — that is, if 
they had any. Of course, although a little bit hazy 
about the matter, I bowed at once to the supreme 
wisdom of the authorities respecting their ideas of the 
qualifications of, and requirements from, the candi- 
dates for the detective service, but it has never yet, 
down even to this present day, been satisfactorily 
demonstrated to my mind w^hy it should be necessary, 
before a man is supposed to be competent to detect 
crime and track down wrong-doers, that he should 
have to be a certain height and only possess a given 
number of children, and I c.an only, in accounting for 
this state of things, come to the conclusion that the 
original founders of the Criminal Investigation 
Department were men of considerable physique, and 
faithful adherents to the principles inculcated by 
Malthus. 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


19 


I, however, replied to the request without any 
delay. I went so far as to assure the authorities 
that I was steady, that I believed I could read and 
write, and also that (with the assistance of a tape 
measure) I had satisfied myself that I met the 
regulation requirements in regard to height ; further, 
that my age was twenty-two, and that up to the 
date indicated I had no children whatever dependent 
upon me. 

It was Very evident that the ^Scotland Yard 
officials were offended in some way or other, or, 
after consideration, must have thought that they 
had replied to my original application many days 
too soon, and, therefore, they would treat this 
communication with still further delay, for it was 
quite three weeks before I heard an^^thing more of 
it, which gave me ample time to refiect what an 
unmitigated blessing officialdom is, and also the 
opportunity of retracting the offer of my services 
had I on further consideration felt so disposed. 

When the acknowledgment did arrive it was short 
and to the purpose — something after this wise: — 
“Whitehall Place, S.W. 

“ To Maurice Moser, 

III414, Blank Street, 

“ Camden Town, N.W. 

“You are hereby requested to present yourself here 
on Monday next at 10 a.m. to verify the heights, measure- 
ments and qualifications given in your form of applica- ^ 
tion. 

“ABC-XYZ, 

“ Chief Commissioner of Police.” 

The morning duly arrived, and I and about forty 
other individuals (presumably candidates) of all 
shapes, makes, sizes, and degrees, presented ourselves 

B 2 


20 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


at the Yard ” as per instructions, standing in little 
knots or groups outside, criticised somewhat severely 
and rudely by passers-by and the casual onlookers who 
had gathered around the entrance, our appearance 
apparently affording them no little amusement. 

One by one we were called into the office and 
directed into an inner sanctum, divided by a curtain, 
at one side of which an intelligent and benevolent 
looking gentleman, the chief surgeon to the police, 
Mr. Timothy Holmes, sat at a table, the other side of 
the curtain being used as a dressing room. 

I stripped, and the surgeon sounded my chest and 
took its dimensions, measured my height and noted 
my weight, examined my eyes and made me (stark 
naked as I was) hop round the room first on one leg 
and then on the other, like an animated stork, to 
ascertain whether I had any varicose veins lurking 
about in some odd corner or other of my anatomy, 
then told me to dress, which was a matter easier said 
than done — as several others were also occupied in 
the same duties, and the place not being over well 
lighted, the various little heaps made up of our clothes 
got considerably mixed up in the process. I know 
that I myself came away, as a souvenir of the occa- 
sion, with one sock, a grey one, belonging to a man 
in Mile End, and a stocking, not too clean, with as 
many holes in it as a colander, the property, as I 
afterwards learned, of a rather superior-looking 
individual who hummed and liaM a great deal, resid- 
ing at Bayswater. I was then shown into another 
room, the ^^funking^^ department, where each candi- 
date Avaits to know the result of the medical exami- 
nation. I was soon told ‘^all right, and requested to 
come on the following Monday to undergo drill. 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


21 


I turned up on that day at the Wellington Barracks 
for that purpose, being by this time a probationer,’^ 
enjoying a wage of 15s. per week, which is payable 
each W ednesday, the authorities keeping three days’ 
pay in hand as some little check upon one’s move- 
ments generally, and any tendency to extravagance 
in particular. On the ground were an inspector and a 
sergeant, both of whom had been in the army — these 
were our drill masters, and a batch of the raw, oh! 
so raw, material, called ‘^recruits.” 

I am afraid 1 wasn’t altogether a conspicuous 
success at the drill; I was, perhaps, a little flurried, 
for I hadn’t been quite able to see, in the flrst place, 
why Mr. Timothy Holmes should have appeared so 
solicitous regarding my general muscular development 
and agility, and now, in the second place, I was 
almost bewildered to think that 1 had to go through 
all the torturous evolutions of the duck-step” and 
numerous other acrobatic performances, apparently 
so necessary to qualify one for the important, mys- 
terious, and responsible duties connected with crimi- 
nal investigations. Whilst thus cogitating I was 
suddenly and somewhat roughly called out of the 
ranks and told, with something approaching a sneer, 
garnished with some bad and forcible language, that 
unless I displayed a little more interest in my drill I 
should be sent back to Scotland Yard. Well, I didn’t 
want any further delay in my progress towards be- 
coming a detective, and, therefore, made what amends 
I could. It appears that ‘^Mr. Sergeant” objected to 
my performance of the action of the official stand 
at ease.” I made a weary mess of it, I am afraid, 
drawing my foot too far back or smacking my hands 
together too heavily, perhaps both — whatever it was, 


22 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


or is, I cannot to this day make out. That portion of 
my duties was always a source of difficulty and terror 
to me, and always would have been, even if I had 
remained in the force for a century. 

Ten to twelve and two to four — these were the 
hours which for six weeks or so were devoted by 
me to the perfection of the various accomplishments 
required before becoming a fully-fledged member. 
At the end of that period I, and nearly all the 
others, were ^tyassed^’ by the Assistant-Commis- 
sioner as competent in drill, and a batch of us were 
thereupon ^^told-off from the ground and marched 
to the ^^Yard.” There we selected our wardrobe, 
which consisted of 

A new and old Tunic 

„ „ „ Pair of Trousers. 

„ „ „ Pair of Boots 

„ „ „ Helmet. 

»» »» Belt. 

A Pair of Leggings. 

,, Waterproof Cape. 

,, Truncheon and case. 

„ Battle (now replaced by a whistle). 

An Instruction Book. 

Such little luxuries as shirts, shaving materials, 
slippers, tooth brushes, and underclothing are not 
included, and these, with the gloves so essential to 
the finish and completeness of the proper British 
police uniform, have to be purchased by the constable 
himself, and are generally to be had from gentlemen 
of the Jewish persuasion, who hang about on ‘pass- 
ing days, and who are always anxious to sell such 
articles (at a profit, of course) to the young, inex- 
perienced, and sometimes rough new ’uns.^’ For 
a policeman to be discovered on duty without his 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


23 


gloves would be a grave breach of one of the un- 
written regulations of the constabulary, never mind 
whether they fit or not, or whether they have big 
fingers and long thumbs ; so long as they are gloves 
and are white for summer and black for Avinter, the 
etiquette of the force demands their full recognition. 

The new clothes are made in stock sizes, but witli 
the assistance of one’s own efforts coupled Avith those 
of the police tailor, they are soon knocked into some- 
thing of a fit, and it is remarkable to me how well 
the uniforms do fit, considering everything. 

The old ones — ^Avell, you must just do what you 
can with them, hoping and trusting in your bosom of 
bosoms that those handed to you will not have 
formerly belonged to some member of the force) 
ejther double or about half your size. 

The new things are for use in the daytime, the old 
ones for night work ; just as a cabby puts his best 
horse in for the sunshine, and his w^orst for the 
moonlight, so does a policeman use his dotlies. 

The boots — oh, those boots, the thoughts of them! 
— are also stock sizes, but after you have rubbed 
through a few spare layers of cuticle with their help 
it is wonderful how one manages to get along so 
comfortably with them, for they are thick; huge, 
unwieldy, shapeless things, minus instep, nearly as 
broad as long, and for a time squeak terribly, three 
and a-half squeaks to tlie step. I’ve counted them 
often. Many a time, when new, has their music 
accompanied me in the lonely vigils of the night, to 
the amusement of the casual passer-by, and to the 
disgust of enterprising wrong-doers. 

The helmets were my one difficult task. I had a 
job to get them to fit properly, to stop on when 


24 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


donned, to do anything, in fact, but either get over 
my ears or down the nape of my neck. 

The cape is sometimes new; as often not. In the 
latter case its porosity distinguishes it. 

I musn^t on any consideration overlook the in- 
struction book; it is a most wonderful production, 
bound in stiff, white binding, and contains about 
400 pages; in it are all sorts and manners of things. 
Dozens of columns of instructive regulations, equal- 
ling the Ten Commandments and several series of 
the Thirty -nine Articles, all rolled info one in a way 
that is fearful and wonderful. I calculate that if 
a policeman — ^the average policeman, I mean — ^was 
set to study that book, he could, having nothing else 
whatever to do, with hard and constant work, 
perhaps manage to master its contents in about 
fifteen years, and it would take an extra five years 
for the due digestion of the new orders,’^ which 
would creep in while he was reading up the old ones. 

In this book are explained to you all the duties, 
how to fold your clothes, how to serve summonses, 
how to address your superiors, how to speak to your 
— no, I daren’t say anything about inferiors — and 
you are also instructed how to giv^e evidence; that 
it is not considered ^^good form” in the force to call 
the magistrate your ^^washup,” as sometimes do 
the vulgar, illiterate, and intoxicated persons who 
are occasionally placed under your charge, and a 
great deal more to much the same effect. This 
book is one of those things which would afford Mark 
Twain, or some other competent humorist, a life’s 
time of genuine and unadulterated amusement; it is 
a thing to be seen to be appreciated, and to be read 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


25 


to be cursed. Mine at thie present moment, is, I 
believe, though. I am not quite sure, somewhere at 
the bottom of the Eegent^s Canal. 

After receiving all these articles, an operation 
which, as may be supposed, takes up a considerable 
amount of time, you practise for about twenty 
minutes, in an outer office, the recital of the oath of 
allegiance. 

You are then (in batches) marched into the 
chamber of the Chief Commissioner, who speaks a 
few kindly words of advice, gives you a little homily 
upon sobriety, honesty, punctuality, and some other 
cardinal virtues which a policeman ought to possess, 
all of which you duly appreciate but entirely forget 
through nervousness. His Chief ship’’ then reads 
out the oath which you have been practising, and 
which by now you have or ought to have thoroughly 
at your fingers’ and tongue’s end. You repeat it 
after him, and at its conclusion four of you together 
grasp the ^^Book” to kiss it, four kisses to about 
four square inches of book. You then become a fully 
authorised and duly qualified preserver of the peace 
of Her Majesty’s subjects, and your pay is iinme- 
diately raised' to twenty-four shillings, increasing 
at the rate of about one shilling per year up to 
thirty -two shilling's per week. 

You again go into the ^‘Yard” to see an official 
termed the station sergeant, who calls your name out 
and provides you with a divisional letter and a 
• umber, these having been arranged a little time pre- 
vious, according to the vacancies which have occurred 
in the respective divisions. I was not tall enough for 
tlie A Division so was drafted as B 892, Walton 


26 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


Street Police Station, Brompton, and I thus blossomed 
out in all the fulness of the dignity that the designa- 
tion could possibly give me. 

To the district mentioned I and three others were 
driven, accompanied by a sergeant, in a four-wheeler, 
with our “wardrobe’^ carefully and professionally 
tied up in those red and blue neckerchiefs, which 
when filled look like nothing so much as a set of huge 
Christmas puddings, as they rest in the available 
spare portion of the vehicle. 

When I arrived there I once more had my name 
taken down by an inspector. The ofiicials seemed 
very anxious not to forget one’s name, and are con- 
tinually asking for it, and entering in some register 
or other, during the whole of the ceremony. It is a 
way they have, I suppose, and as it does no harm, but 
perhaps occasionally exercises the spelling powers of 
the writer, I ought not to grumble at this. 

My first actual duty was to come on as a “reserve,” 
at the police station, from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m., which 
lasted about a week^^at the expiration of which I Tv^as 
shown a “beat” by the sergeant, and told that I 
should be required to be on it precisely the same 
hours as when on reserve. This necessitated my 
being at the station each night at half -past nine, 
when the night men paraded for duty and had the 
“Orders” of the day, which is practically the mani- 
festo, giving the names of defaulters, and stating the 
promotions, &c., from headquarters, read over to us; 
also the “Information,” which is a list, giving full 
particulars of the “cases” which had occurred 
during the day, and which are thus brought to the 
notice of each member of the force as a guide for his 
movements in cases of suspected personages, &c. 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


27 


These things being done, the inspector looks tlie 
men all over to see that they have capes, lanterns, 
and staves all in order. He being satisfied, a sergeant 
with the words Attention ! Quick march ! ” leads 
them all off, in that single file order which is so 
weU known to the public, to their respective beats ; 
they then drop out one by one until the last man is 
placed on duty, the sergeant then returns and makes 
his way back again, visiting the first man who fell 
out, and the others all in regular order, and this three 
distinct times during the night. 

The sergeant visits and supervises the men, the 
inspector supervises the sergeant, and the super- 
intendent visits, at (for obvious reasons) irregular 
intervals, tlie inspectors. 

Single men live in the divisional station-house, 
married men elsewhere, but they must reside within 
the range of the division. 

The whole of the hours of the night duty are 
carried through without any intermission or relief ; 
those of the day are divided into tw^o parts, thus : 

A would go on 10 p.m. to G a.m. 

T3 „ „ 6 a.m. to 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. to 6 p.m. 

C „ „ 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. 

Night and day duty are taken for one month alter- 
nately, and each month a week day and a Sunday off 
are allowed. 

For holidays, see ^instruction Book.’^ 

A policeman walks about twenty miles a day or 
night when on duty, and the beats are changed each 
month, and I believe by the system now in vogue 
every street in London is covered both day and night. 

My beat was in the district which included 
Ennismore Gardens, and above all lively, or rather 


28 


DETECTIVE STORIES, 


deadly, places in the world, Brompton Cemetery. 
Well do I remember the ghastly appearance the 
place (when my heart literally sank down somewhere 
in the regions of my boot heels) had for me in the 
early period of my experiences; but after a little 
while the nervousness and unpleasant feeling wore 
off, and I walked my rounds’’ as though I had been 
in the manner born to it. 

There is a lot to do at night, lonely as the dark 
may be thought— more, in fact, than in the daytime. 

Doors and windows have to be seen to; it is 
astonishing how exceedingly careless the British 
householder invariably is in neglecting to fasten 
these properly. Public-houses must close to the 
minute; and elderly inebilated gentlemen have to 
be carefully piloted up the front steps of their resi- 
dences and placed tenderly inside the passage. The 
little domestic differences and arguments which 
occur if Mrs. Elderly Gentleman should happen to 
be waiting to open the door are highly diverting. 
Every beat, in some way or other, supplies the 
policeman with an immense amount of amusement 
and reflection. 

One thing a constable is expected not to do, that 
is, smoke when on duty; the deprivation of this is 
a terrible punishment in cold and cheerless weather 
to a smoker, and I am afraid the regulation is very 
often broken through, for a man must be something 
more than human if he can resist ‘^just one pipe” 
with the thermometer, say, ever so many degrees 
below zero. All that has to be done is to exercise 
sufficient care that the ^'superior” does not detect 
you, otherwise the opportunities are fairly plentiful, 
and are not unnaturally freely taken advantage of. 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


29 


An officer on niglit duty gets quite a connections^ 
in the range of his beat. A friendly landlord of a 
public-house here and another one there often supply 
what is greatly appreciated — a cheery, hot glass of 
grog to the almost half -starved mortal. The servants, 
the female ones, of the houses in the neighbourhood 
are genei*ally open for a gossip (although all this is 
expressly against the regulations), between the area 
railings in the evening, after the dinner things are 
cleared away, when sundry dainty tit bits find their 
way to the palate of ^^Mr. Policeman. Should he 
be single, good-looking, and amiable, our police-officer 
never need go short of a supper, that is, I take it, if 
he knows his duty properly. One of the most wel- 
come events in the policeman’s nightly career is the 
approach of the travelling coffee-stall. A cup of hot, 
well-made beverage of this description is always 
appreciated at night or early morning, and I really 
don’t know what many of the poor fellows would do 
without the coffee-staU keepers. If ever I become a 
rich man, sufficiently well off to be able to do some 
good in the world, the first thing I should do would be 
to reward handsomely everyone of the coffee-stall 
keepers who could prove having supplied the weary 
policeman with this most grateful relief during his 
rounds of duty. 

What with the pretty servants (and if a policeman 
does not, in a very short tune, know every cook and 
housemaid in every house in his district, I do not give 
him much credit for enterprise), the friendly publi- 
cans, the elderly gentlemen already referred to, the 
coffee stall keepers, the club-men returning home in 
early inorning, generally in batches of three, arm-in- 
arm, on the principle that union is strength, singing 


30 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


refrains with not over much regard for time, and per- 
fectly indifferent as to tune; the tips here and the 
tips there, and the tips that can be made if necessary, 
I disagree in toto with Mr. W. S. Gilbert, and believe 
that not only is a policeman’s life a happy one, take it 
all in all, but is a profitable, interesting, and exciting 
one, that is, providing he takes up his work earnestly, 
and does not go through it wearing a chronic scowl, 
and using a perpetual “move on there!” 

I have a recollection of an incident which led me 
into a little temporary trouble once, and which is 
perhaps worth detailing. 

Sobriety, as I mentioned on page 25, is one of the 
cardinal virtues policemen are supposed to possess, 
and I must say that they do possess it as a body, for 
a more temperate set of men it is impossible to find. 
The rules are severe and the punishment salutary 
regarding insobriety, and a fine is infiicted upon, and 
a reprimand given to, any officer found in a public- 
house during his “turn ” of duty, unless he can prove 
having been called in to quell a disturbance or to 
exercise his official functions in some way or other. 
One day in July — a conspicuously hot month in a 
particularly hot year — had been on my beat for 
about three hours in the sweltering sun and hot dust, 
which the clothes are powerless against — was ever 
such a silly fashion instituted, compelling the police 
to wear dark blue uniform in summer? — and, as I 
was suffering from a “prodigious” thirst, I picked 
out a public-house in a shady, quiet corner, where I 
thought I should be unobserved, and went down the 
narrow passage to the bar, and asked for some lime- 
juice — don’t smile, please, at the idea of policemen 
drinking lime-juice, but that really was what I 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


31 




ordered. I had just raised the glass to mj lips, when 
who should walk in but my sergeant, who in a loud 
voice asked, What are you doing here, sir I was 
vexed at thus being discovered, but too thirsty to 
say anything until I had finished my drink,’’ when 
I explained that I was compelled to get some re- 
freshment. Mr. Sergeant duly reported me, and I 
was ^^fiped ” half-a-crowm — the only fi]ie I ever 
had during the whole of my police or detective 
experience — ^but when the matter was reported, 
the superintendent quietly turned the tables upjon 
the sergeant by asking him what he was doing 
in the publichouse, and the hesitating response, 
which was made convinced us aU that he had 
gone into the public house for exactly the 
same purpose that I had, only that particular 
sergeant, as was well knowm, had a soul entirely 
above lime-juice. Sometimes great amusement is 
caused by the tricks and practical jokes played upon 
new comers by the more seasoned members of the 
force. I distinctly remember being a sufferer myself 
at the early stage of my constabulary career. It 
happened thus: — One night I was greatly alarmed 
to see on the top of the railings close by the entrance 
to the Cemetery, a ghastly goblin, unearthly sort of 
a figure, with its head bent dowm, and its wings 
outspread, an uncanny object of some kind or other, 
I could not make out what, in the somewhat dull 
night. It seemed to move backwards and forwards 
with the breeze, as though it had movement, and I 
watched it for some time, and grew much agitated 
as to what it could be; I was alone, not a sound could 
I hear but the wind, which moaned through the trees 
and stones in the graveyard, when presently I heard 


32 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


what I thought was a shriek, and felt then that it 
was getting quite time for me to do something, so I 
drew my staff, rushed across to where the object 
was, seized it, when a hearty burst of laughter 
from behind a tombstone caused me to appreciate 
the fact that two of my comrades had, with some 
considerable trouble, fixed a dead fowl, which they 
had found in the middle of the road close by, in the posi- 
tion I have described. The shriek which I thought I 
heard was the smothered laughter of one of the men 
who had so heartily entered into the fun of the 
thing. It was a long time before I heard the last of 
my adventure; it was the common talk of the station- 
house for at least a month, and Mr. Superintendent, 
a really decent, true-hearted sort of fellow, though 
strict and stern on dufy7 indulged in no little 
laughter at my expense, and when he met me in plain 
clothes one day, remarked that I did not appear to 
have reported’^ the occurrence. 

A great deal of right-down genuine bon-homme 
exists in the force, among both officers and men. 
Occasionally, however, a ^^crossed^^ superior gets in 
and makes matters very uncomfortable. I could 
give many instances of the unkind actions of some 
of those armed with a brief petty authority, which 
they exercise in a very unbecoming and injudicious 
manner; but as a rule the nasty’’ one is pretty well 
tabooed by the majority, and his life and duty after 
a while does not become altogether pleasant. 

One of the many trials a young bobby” has to 
contend with is the impertinence — ^in fact, the abso- 
lute rudeness, of the small boys of the street, who 
somehow or other intuitively and at once detect a 
new comer ; they picked me out immediately. I 


HOW 1 BECAME A DEFECTIVE. 


33 


suppose it was because I had not fully acquired the 
well-known measured tread, or that I did not fill my 
uniform up properly. I certainly felt that it was 
something of the kind. These young scamps will 
deliberately and without the slightest compunction 
make all sorts of faces at the new man, ‘^yah’^ at him, 
cheek him, even to putting their baskets down on 
the pavement at his feet in order to emphasise their 
indifference, and sometimes proceeding so far as to 
place a thumb at the end of their nose, an action 
which is both insolent and derisive, whereupon the 
young bobby blinks his eyes, looks all sorts of mur- 
derous things at the boy, and with difliculty restrains 
his temper. The experienced policeman, if he should 
accidentally meet with treatment of this kind, 
passes on with a laudable contempt, as though such 
beings as boys had never been invented. 

Cabmen, ’bus drivers, and conductors who occa- 
sionally have to be corrected or moved on” at busy 
corners, are a source of trouble also; they possess a 
fund of sarcastic, slangy chaff of a decidedly un- 
pleasant character, which is keenly felt by the junior 
constable, who is no match for these individuals, 
and all he can do is to remain passive, and should 
they refuse to ^^get on,” quietly take the numbers 
of their vehicles. This generally has a very bene- 
ficial effect if done with a calm exterior. 

Drunken women, the elderly and ‘^seasoned” ones 
in particular, are a great annoyance; they are in- 
variably obstinate and loud-voiced, and can raise a 
crowd in a street sooner than anything or anybody 
eJse that I know of ; they can scratch, too, as 1 have 
learned to my cost. 

There was one little old woman, who regularly 

c 


34 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


gave US trouble in Montpelier Avenue. J'Jie, when 
not in gaol, was generally very busy getting drunk, 
gave us trouble in Montpelier Avenue. She, when 
houses, commence to sing and shriek, and blaspheme 
in a most dreadful manner, with tlie result that, in 
a few minutes, all the boys in Brompton, and not a 
few grown-up people, would gatlier round her and 
tease her, making her still more violent. She was 
a character well-known to the police, and generally 
went by the name of ^n:^athleen.’^ She was Irish, 
and possessed a wooden leg. When she was told to 
f^move on,” she simply sat down in the middle of the 
pavement and smiled and smirked in her own peculiar 
maudlin manner, and if the policeman, not knowing 
her peculiaiuties, had courage enough to attempt to 
pick her up to ^‘run ” her in, out would pop the 
wooden leg from beneath her bedraggled petticoat, 
and before the officer knew wliere he was, he found 
himself, in this extraordinary manner, jerked into 
the mud in the roadway amid the jeers and laughter,! 
and to the intense amusement, of everybody there. 
So expert had this dame become that a green ” 
constable was invariably put up to arrest her, always 
with the above results, thus raising a laugh against 
himself by his comrades. The proper way, I found 
out afterwards, was to let Kathleen sit down as was 
her usual Avont, then get two or three more con- 
stables, tie her wooden and other leg together, and 
bodily carry her to the station. This w’ as a frequent 
o])eration, as she managed in some wonderful way 
or other to nearly always have just sufficient money 
about her to pay the ridiculously small tines the 
magistrate inflicted. Kathleen, to my knowledge, 
Vas brought before the ^^beak” some twenty times. 


HOW 1 BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


35 


After my first experience I generally fought very shy 
of her, hoping that she would wander her way on to 
some other man’s beat to be dealt with by him. 

A night policeman, though it is considered 
irregular, takes some supper with him, bread and 
cheese, or something of that kind in one, and a can 
of tea or coffee, or sometimes a beverage of a greater 
potency, in the other, of his coat tail pockets. This 
can is of a particular shape, being made by a par- 
ticular man at a particular shop in a particular 
street which I will not mention, and for the par- 
ticular purpose it is required it is flat, and has a 
depression in the bottom like a wine bottle, is pro- 
vided with a brass screw cap, and holds about a 
l)iiit. The depression serves a very useful purpose, 
as it just fits the burner of the ordinary street gas 
lamp, which the policeman, when the coast is clear, 
climbs and fastens the can on to in a very few 
minutes; then he has the satisfaction of enjoying a 
midnight meal, some portion at least of which is hot. 

I reihember my first experience of tea-warming 
only too well. I had bought the can — a new one — 
on the recommendation of the man on the next beat 
the same day. About two o’clock in the morning I 
laboriously climbed the lamp-post, which is not by 
any means as easy as it looks, whilst you have your 
helmet, cape, staff, and various other impediments 
on, and sat astride the iron bar, which stretches out 
in order to rest the cleaner’s ladder against, and 
managed to fix my can on, and with my legs dangling 
down, an exceedingly uncomfortable position, 
awaited the result. This was a rather different one 
to that which I had anticipated, for I had barely 
settled myself on to my perch before I heard the 

c2 


36 


Detective stoHies. 


gruff, stern voice of the superintendent, who had 
unexpectedly come round, saying, ^‘Now then, 392, 
what are you doiiig there; is your ^beat^ up in the 
sky somewhere?’^ I felt exceedingly foolish, of 
course; and I know I looked it. To make matters 
worse, whilst I was turning round to reply, for my 
back only presented itself to the view of the super- 
intendent, the can exploded, smashed the lamp into 
smithereens, covering both of us with tea and broken 
glass. I almost dropped off my resting-place in sheer 
fright, and didn’t I just get a wigging” from my 
superior, who was rather a dandy in his dress — 
always being admirably clean and spick and span. 
I was, of course, duly reported, and mulcted in a 
fine of some three and tenpence — the cost of the 
damage — ^besides the loss of my can and my tea. 
Needless to say that I was more careful afterwards; 
but I have laughed heartily over that incident many 
times since then. I remember so well seeing the 
superintendent’s beard wet with my tea, and the in- 
tensely severe look of disgust he favoured me with 
when 1 tried to blurt out some ridiculous excuse or 
other for my conduct, and to which he replied by 
abruptly saying, ^‘Get to your duty, sir, and don’t 
make such an ass of yourself again.” 

I had about nine months of this kind of experience, 
sandwiched with a large number of laughable inci- 
dents of the above description, when one morning I 
was summoned to the ^‘Yard” and selected — ^this 
through the kindly infiuence of Superintendent Cut- 
bush — to go to Paris, in attendance upon the Royal 
Commission at the Exhibition tliere, my salary being 
exactly doubled, and, as the indoor servants say, 
everything found.” This was a stroke of unusually 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


37 


good luck, and I was truly and deeply grateful for 
the lift up. My stay there was an extremely plea- 
sant one, one of the most gratifying results being 
that at the conclusion of my duties, H.R.H. the 
Prince of .Wales presented me with a handsome 
br;east-pin. No wonder the Heir-apparent is so 
popular; he never overlooks the opportunity of giving 
any official, whoever he may be, w'hether high or low, 
any encouragement which may be in his power to 
give. Sir P. Cunliffe Owen, the secretary, also 
kindly gave me a recommendation to be drafted into 
the detective department. 

Then, and not till then, began the real experiences 
I had so much wished and hoped for, some of which 
I have tried to relate to the best of my ability and 
recollection in other pages of this little book, and 
promotion generally followed. I entered as a de- 
tective-constable of the third cla^s, reached the first 
class, then third class sergeant, to first ditto, then 
on to my inspectorship. I reached this position all 
within the space of about four years, one, I believe, 
and I am proud to say it, of the quickest promotions 
ever made in the department. I resigned in 1887 (a 
step which fortunately, up to the present, I have no 
cause to regret), owing to a very favourable “out- 
side’’ offer made to me, and which I accepted. At 
my resignation I received a No. 2 Certificate, “^on- 
duct very good,” and must say that, although there 
are so many matters of an irksome character con- 
stantly cropping up, chiefiy within the department, 
owing to the intense amount of red-tapeism with 
which the whole of our detective system is bound, 
take it all together, I had, with a very few exceptions 
(for there were, of course, a few uncouth, ill-mannered 


38 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


officers, and always will be) a jdeasant and gratifying 
career. I met in the force a number of dowji-right 
good fellows, some of whom were evei' ready to do 
what they could to assist me in the performance of 
oftentimes the most arduous duties — one of whom, 
Cliief Constable Williamson, stands out for the 
genuineness of his character and the kindliness of his 
disposition. Every man in the force had in that 
gentleman a friend willing at any time to assist, if 
he only saw the one requiring his help was mindful 
of his duty. The sum total of my work during my 
connection with the Yard being that I made a very 
large number of arrests, and recovered property to 
the value of about £60,000. 

The detective department, strange to say, is not, 
as many people imagine, at Scotland Yard afc all, 
but in reality at 21 and 22, Whitehall Place. The 
force altogether consists of one superintendent, three 
chief inspectors, nine inspectors, numerous sergeants, 
and about three hundred and fifty rank and file. 
There are twenty-five divisions in the metropolis, 
each one having its local inspectors and sergeants 
and men; these are under the superintendentship of 
the ^^Yard,’’ which occasionally sends one of its own 
men to assist the divisional officers in any more than 
usually intricate case. 

I am taking the opportunity here to point out a 
few* weak spots in our detective system. The first, 
and the chief one, is the inadequate remuneration 
offered to the officials who ought, considering the 
nature of their work, to be entirely placed beyond 
temptation. Beyond an increase of 2s. 6d. per week 
per year there is little, if anything, to tempt a man 
to remain in the force on this w^age, which com- 


ttow 1 BECAME A DE'tECTIVE. 


39 


mences at 24s., with an addition of Is. per day for 
plain clothes allowance. Out of this the officer must 
himself provide everything, is expected to contribute 
to the superannuation fund at least 25 per cent, of 
his earnings, and compelled to live within, at what- 
ever expense or inconvenience, a distance of three 
miles from headquarters. Had I remained until 
now in the Department, I should have been, even 
with my unusually rapid promotion, the recipient of 
the lordly sum of £182 per year, less the deduction 
alluded to, besides a further one of 15s. upon the 
death of an inspector for the benefit of his widow, 
and 10s. 6d. for his orphans. It is impossible to 
expect — and I say it because I have experienced 
the difficulties and temptations — ^to obtain educated, 
alert men, suitable for the service, on such paltry 
terms as these, and on the grounds of poor remu- 
neration alone the individuals selected for the 
purpose of carrying out some of the most delicate 
and important work that can possibly be conceived, 
will always, with very few exceptions, be those who 
are utterly unsuited for the duty, i.e., tlie artisan 
and agricultural classes.' 

In addition, the library and band fund have to be 
contributed to, so that salaries are really very con- 
siderably reduced. The officer is expected to dress 
as a gentleman, and I want to know how, in the name 
of all that is equitable, can a man, crippled on every 
hand like this, get about or obtain the assistance of 
informers, the most necessary adjuncts to a detec- 
tive’s success? 

rt may be suggested that if a report be submitted 
stating that an informer is prepared to divulge infor- 
mation, payment will be Ranted. Quite so; I and 


4:0 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


others have had some bitter experiences on this 
subject. 

The supposed informer has to sign a receipt, even 
if it should be only for a paltry sum of a few^ shillings, 
and the detective, to show his bona fides, has to 
divulge his informer’s address at headquarters. What 
is the result? The informer gets completely dis- 
gusted at having his whereabouts made almost public 
property, and will never assist again. That informers 
are absolutely necessary is undoubted. I defy any 
detective officer to go into the haunts of certain 
classes and obtain the information he desires without 
such assistance. He must, therefore, employ some 
one who can give him this information, but unless 
it is made worth the informer’s while, these men will 
decline to come forward. 

The second is, that the whole system of out-of- 
pocket expenses allowance should be investigated, 
and placed upon a more equitable basis. How can 
men be expected to work with strength, energy, and 
determination, when every penny of their personal 
expenses has to be accounted for ? A fixed and more 
liberal scale should be made. It is within my recol- 
lection on one occasion, while engaged upon an im- 
portant case, to have paid twopence for a ’bus fare. 
When my ^^contingents account” sheet fa sheet made 
out weekly) went in, and which gives the particulars 
warranting the expenditure, I was met with the 
remark that the fare from such to such a place was 
only one penny. I explained — ^which was a fact — 
that in my haste I had unfortunately got on to a 
pirate ’bus, hence the twopence instead of a penny 
expended. My explanation was, however, after, I 
should think, quite thirty shillings’ worth of labour, 



HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


41 


time, and paper expended in reporting, referring, &c., 
disallowed,^’ and I was the loser by the transaction. 
It is this pettifogging sort of treatment which soon 
disgusts one. 

Further, as a detective officer of some years’ 
thorough and practical experience of Scotland Yard 
and the whole of its machinery, I am constrained to 
say that the great and chiefest reason of the inability 
of our Criminal Investigation Department to 
thoroughly grapple with crimes of the descriptions 
which of late have assumed such dreadful and 
horrifying proportions, and to give that good account 
of itself which every reasonable rate-paying citizen 
would naturally expect, arises, not from the fault 
of any particular individual, but from the general 
incompetency — owing to its faulty and cumbersome 
construction — of the whole body. 

Too often have I, myself, painfully experienced the 
harassing minutiae attending the efforts of all con- 
cerned in the rampant red-tapeism which reigns 
supreme in the administration of that department, 
not to believe but that by the wholesome help of a 
few energetic reformers a workable system could be 
easily set up, and the old regime disestablished and 
done aw^ay with, as it ought to have been years and 
years ago. 

In this article, already much longer than it ought 
to be, it is impossible for me to do more than but 
casually, as it were, note wherein lies the principal 
sources of the weaknesses and suggest what I con- 
sider to be the remedy. On some other occasion, 
perhaps, I may be permitted to give other examples 
of the almost countless number of difficulties, doubts, 
and fears which surround and choke even the best 


42 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


inte-ntioned efforts of those employed in the detective 
service. But it will not be out of place if I here 
mention tliat I am firmly of opinion that the detective 
department should be entirely separated in every 
possible way from that of the uniformed police, and 
the Assistant Commissioner, who, for the time being, 
is the recognised chief of the detective department, 
ought to have sufficient power entrusted to him to 
be able to act witliout having to consult whoever 
happens to be the Chief Commissioner. 

A central office should be established, and the head 
of the Detective Department should be, of course, in 
direct communication with the local inspectors of 
each division through their respective superinten- 
dent; but not as it is now done, where a divisional 
detective-inspector has first to obtain the approval 
of his superintendent (this superintendent being in 
direct communication only with the chief commis- 
sioner has to submit his report to that official direct, 
who is compelled to re-submit it to the Detective 
Department for action), a backwards and forwards 
movement which is particularly galling to those who 
h,ave to contend with it. Besides this a great deal 
of valuable time is lost, and very considerable friction 
engendered owing to important matters having to pass 
through so many different hands. A word in passing 
as to the late Chief Commissioner's temperament and 
some of his little ways. Sir Charles Warren could be, 
and was, very pleasant at times, but appeared oc- 
casionally to entirely forget that he was dealing with 
a civil and not a military force. Admirable as the 
discipline necessary for the latter may be, it is not 
always suitable for the former; and as an instance 
how impulsive that gentleman could be, I wpl quote 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


43 


one instance of many others which, if I mistake not, might, 
perhaps, have been one of the causes of Mr. Munro’s 
resignation. It was discovered about three years ago 
that the lost property office, which was situated at No. 
21, Whitehall Place, was not large enough for the proper 
accommodation of this department. It was thereupon 
decided that the office of the Criminal Investigation De- 
partment, which then stood in the centre of Scotland 
Yard, should be changed for the lost property office, the 
latter to remove to Scotland Yard, and the former to 
occupy the vacated offices at 21 and 22, Whitehall Place. 

The then chief superintendent of the C. I. Department 
was one day, to his great surprise and annoyance, in- 
formed by Sir Charles Warren that the offices were to be 
at once cleared out. The chief pointed out to Sir Charles 
the difficulties that would arise, having to remove some 
30,000 sets of papers and all the books, &c., but Sir 
Charles was inexorable, and would listen to no excuse 
whatever, but sent word over at four o’clock saying that 
the detectives were to be at 21, Whitehall Place, at ten 
the following morning, and out they had to go, holus 
bolus, with the result that an intense confusion ensued, 
certain sets of papers which were required could not be 
found for at least a month, having got so mixed up in 
removing, and it was with the greatest difficulty that 
the officials could get through the work at all. 

The men at present comprising the detective staff 
are, as far as they go, satisfactory; they are inva- 
riably honest, and in spite of the extreme irksome- 
ness of their surroundings, always ready to do their 
duty to the best of their ability, but they suffer great- 
ly from ^‘rawness,” and owing to their having to 


44 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


undergo and pass through the ordeal of training, 
perhaps necessary for a police officer, but which is 
absolutely useless for a detective, they suffer from 
all the peculiarities of carriage, gait, and dress which 
unmistakably mark the ordinary preserver of the 
peace, and which, in many instances, must greatly 
mar his chances of success, for the ordinary police- 
man, be he disguised in whatever fashion he chooses, 
is, on account of the ^^driir^ he has received, readily 
recognised by the ^cute eyes of every ^^wrong-’un’^ 
from Mile End to Mayfair. 

The red-tapeism which permeates the whole 
department harasses and hampers the detective, 
whether in division or at headquarters, and the 
frequent unnecessary reports, and the inability of 
the inspectors, on whom practically falls all the 
work, to act independently, and to follow their own 
judgment, which is in many cases far superior to 
those above them in authority, is extremely trying, 
and tends to stifle the interest which many would 
evince in their duties. 

To give yet another instance of this elaborate cir- 
cumlocution office, we will supjjose that some im- 
portant ^^case’^ has been reported to the department. 
This may have come through the division or by appli- 
cation by a private individual. The ^^case’’ is at first 
looked into by the assistant commissioner. 

It is then passed on to the chief constable, who 
sends it to the superintendent (there is only one 
superintendent in the detective department), and he 
in turn marks it out for the officer whom he considers 
most competent to carry it out. Thus far (only as yet 
having i^assed through three hands), so good, but the 
^‘case,’^ after having been given to the officer, has, of 


HOW I BECAME A DETECTIVE. 


45 


course, if it is of a pressing nature, to be immediately 
attended to, and the officer, though engaged knee- 
deep in another matter, must leave that to take the 
new one in hand, perhaps entirely neglecting pre- 
vious investigations which have occupied him for 
some days, and, besides this, probably, be called upon 
to attend the police-court or sessions, and then at its 
conclusion is expected to take up the former one. This 
arises from an insufficiency of staff. 

Again, an inspector at headquarters has to work 
entirely on his own account; if he wants help, he is 
compelled to beg permission of his superintendent 
to allow him the assistance of a detective sergeant or 
detective constable, as the case may be. This, of 
course, is absolutely wrong; it ought to be as it is in 
divisions, each inspector having a certain number 
(which may be increased from time to time, as occa- 
sion requires) of men allotted to him, and be made 
solely responsible for their actions. No enquiries’’ 
should be giyen, as is now done, to detective sergeants 
and constables; they ought all to go through the 
hands of a more responsible person. I have had, 
myself, frequently six or seven different cases in 
hand, and they all have had to be neglected for want 
of proper assistance, not that the assistance would 
have been denied me if T had asked for it, but tl\e 
very difficulty of obtaining such assistance consider- 
ably hampers one’s progress. Strange to say, the 
system of an inspector having a certain number of 
men under his charge is actually carried out in each 
(Hvimon, where the detective inspector has sergeants 
and men in proportion to the size of the division- 
under his control, but not at headquarters, and this 
is one of the peculiar anomalies which no one can 


46 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


po^ibly understand. The greatest blot of all, in my 
opinion, is that it is compnlsory for a man, prior to 
his being considered eligible for the detective force 
to have to serve as a uniform policeman. Why should 
this be at all ? 

It is alleged by the authorities that a certain 
amount of experience, a certain height, and a certain 
discipline is necessary to make a man fit for the 
detective department. Was ever such ridiculous 
nonsense credited elsewhere? Why not have a 
detective school, bringing men in and training them 
specially? Keep them for terms of, say, three years, 
and, if then unsuitable, dismiss them. There is plent^r 
of lighter work to be done for such to obtain practice 
upon. Perhaps it may be argued that a trial of this 
description has been made and turned out a failure ? 
But the few men (|I believe there were only four 
altogether) were spoiled by a wrong system, having 
had too much power vested in them at once — so 
characteristic of the ways and means of the Yard.’^ 

The remedies I would suggest are: — 

(1.) The entire separation of the two departments, 
making the uniformed police and detectives two 
distinct creations. 

(2.) Better and more appropriate remuneration. 

(3.) A sharp revision of the existing and ridiculous 
pension system. 

(4.) The overhauling of the manner of the repayment 
of out-of-pocket expenses. 

(5.) Employment of a competent staff of female 
detectives. 

(6.) The increase of the detective force to at least 
one thousand men; the small number at present 


HOW I BECAME A DETEOTIVB. 


47 


engaged are absolutely unable to cope with the 
requirements of five millions of people. 

(7.) The establishment of a proper training school. 

(8.) A more definite understanding as to the 
payment and employment of ^^nformers.” 

(9.) A special commission of enquiry to be esta- 
blished respecting the whole administration. 

If only these suggestions which I have made be 
carried into effect, without a doubt the London 
detective force would in a very short time prove 
itself to be quite equal to any emergency, and fully 
capable of watching” the criminals of this huge 
city of ours, which, from its enormous population 
alone, presents every possible opportunity for the 
escape of those who desire to fvade the ends of 
justice 





EEVOLTJnON, EOBBERT, AND 
EEVENGE. 


The last Carlist agitation which worked the whole 
of Spain into a complete state of ferment had the 
^ost djisas[trous effects upon the younger people 
of that cou.ntry, who, ever ready to emulate the rest- 
less daring of the intrepid Don Carlos himself, placed 
themselves and their lives at his disposal, and dedi- 
cated their money's and their properties, as well as 
those of other people, to him. They took no thought 
of the dangers which accompanied their wild doings, 
nor the slightest account of the difficulties which 
beset them, but all interested, from the humblest at 
the plough to the highest at the court, excited by 
adventure and stimulated by the prospects of position, 
advancement, and the probability of gain, plunged 
themselves headlong, boldly, and recklessly, into the 
very thick of that great political turmoil, which, 
for a time seemed to threaten the disturbance of the 
general peace of the whole of Continental Europe. 

The fiery untamed youths, students, shopmen, 
clerks, and others grouped themselves into miscel- 
laneous bands and formed secret societies for the 
more effectual support of the ^^movement,’’ but were 
hunted by the authorities out of their meeting places 
as often as they met, turned into the open and freely 
dispersed. However, perfectly undaunted, again and 
again they managed to re-establish themselves, pass 
resolutions, vote men and munitions, and seek further 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 49 

supplies of tlie things needful, with a pertinacity 
bordering almost upon fanaticism, and when at last 
mtei'ly defeiited, and driven by sheer force out of the 
kingdom whose power they were endeavouring to 
thwart and overturn, they obtained refuge in France, 
ilelginm, Holland, England, and numerous other 
countries, and there re-formed themselves into com- 
pact bodies and still agitated and harassed the Span- 
ish Government from these distances by sending 
whatever help they could, in whatever shape they 
were able, to the dusky, garlic-eating friends they 
had left behind with the hopes of being able to 
siinuilate them also into rebellion against the jjowers 
that were. Some little furtlier effect was thus pro- 
duced, but the whole were eventually, effectively and 
entirely suppressed. To such a i)itch did the excite- 
ment among these young people reach that their heads 
were comi^letely turned, and even those who had been 
credited with being well-behaved and honourable, 
forgot home, honesty, themselves, everything, per- 
formed actions and took part in proceedings whic.h, 
in their more sobered moments, they must have been 
heartily ashamed of, and many noble families of tliat 
country are to this day reputationless and utterly 
disgraced because of the wrong and untoward doings 
of some of their misguided members during 
the period of the agitation. 

W ant of funds was no doubt the immediate cause 
of many of the infamous and criminal practices 
which a number of the supporters of Don Carlos 
found themselves involved in, and for this reason, 
to a very considerable extent the laws were often 
derided, set at naught, and defied, and embezzlement, 
fraud, forgery, and rapine frequently indulged in. 

D 


50 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


One would hardly feel disposed to suggest, even 
with the greatest stretch of the imagination — ^the 
district being so well known by almost everybody — 
that the parish of sweet, silent, sylvan Sydenham 
would be likely to contain anything of so disturbing 
and startling a character as the headquarters of the 
English branch of the Carlist Association, but, 
nevertheless, such was the fact, and the peaceful inhabi- 
tants of that pretty district will perhaps hardly appre- 
ciate or feel grateful to me for reminding them that 
during that period, regularly for months, some of 
the most important meetings in connection with the 
Carlist rising” ever convened were held in a cottage 
not many hundred yards from the Crystal Palace. 
There men gathered and plotted plots, the nature of 
which, if explained and related, would almost turn 
grey ttie very hairs of the very residents alluded to. 
Little did these latter highly respectable gentlemen, 
who, with their equally highly respectable families, 
occupied the pleasant quiet houses in the neigh- 
bourhood, imagine that right under their very noses, 
whilst they were, perhaps, calmly sleeping their 
sleep, dreaming of stocks and shares and other similar 
innocencies, in a district apparently absolutely above 
suspicion, there were being hatched in their midst, 
in an entirely unsuspected quarter, some of the most 
diabolical and bloodthirsty conspiracies that were 
ever contemplated or concocted for the purpose of 
the destruction of human life. 

This little knot of conspirators, some fifteen in 
number, hardly thought, in the apparent security 
of their suburban retreat, that they were known 
and being actively watched, and they evidently did 
not realise that every movement of every member 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


51 


was noted by detectives, who, in the early stages of 
their assembling, had been made familiar with their 
proceedings. 

The chief figure of the fire-eating fugitives was an 
exceedingly handsome young Spaniard, named Don 
Justos Gonzales Morelia, a descendant of one of the 
oldest and best families of Madrid; he had a well 
set-up and lithe physique, beautiful eyes, a rich 
tawny complexion, with fine hair, and a beard and 
moustache which completed about as picturesque a 
personage as one could wish to see; he had plenty 
of ^‘go,’^ and was altogether a fascinating man. 

To the just horror of his family he espoused the 
Carlist cause and threw in his lot with the agitators, 
carrying his enthusiasm to the extent of forging a 
certain signature and obtaining bonds from the Bank 
of Spain to a very considerable amount; then, finding 
the Madrid police upon his track, he promptly left 
the country, making his way to England, where he 
busied himself in getting together a number of the 
Carlists who were compelled, in order to preserve 
their own skins, almost immediately to follow him; 
hence his appearance at the head of the branch 
alluded to. 

He managed, with his tact and manner, to get in- 
troduced to some of the best people in London, and 
the name of Don Justos Gonzales Morelia figured on 
many cards of invitation sent out by Society’^ — 
particularly the female portion of it, to whom he was 
dangerously attractive — during the time he honoured 
this city with his presence. He was a sad dog, how- 
ever, having broken or damaged almost every 
feminine heart he had come in contact with, his 


52 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


gallantries being innumerable; in fact, but for his 
weakness in this respect, Morelia might still have 
been in tlie enjoyment of everything that love, gaiety, 
aplomb, and beauty in this country could have 
secured for him. It was not to be, however, and the 
rabid Carlist and accomplished lady-killer found 
himself at last, greatly to his disgust and disappoint- 
ment, over-reached and arrested. 

Morelia had greatly admired a young French lady 
— a remarkably pretty and accomplished girl, a gover- 
ness in the family of some friends he had made early 
on his arrival in England — arid he soon found an 
opportunity of being introduced to her, which intro- 
duction took place at a concert at St. James’s Hall. 
A friendship sprang up between them, which 
soon ripened into an intimate relationship. Morelia 
at first wanted, or in all probability pretended to 
want, to marry the girl, but her guardians (she was 
an orphan) strongly objected, as they could not learn 
Morelia’s antecedents, he being jirevented, for 
obvious good reasons, from saying whom he really 
was. They then agreed to elope, and Paris was 
reached by the pair, who remained for some consider- 
able time there together, finally returning to London. 
Morelia soon grew tired of his companion; quarrels 
ensued, and eventually, as they had both considered 
and protested that their affection was entirely above 
the necessity of such a commonplace proceeding as 
a wedding ceremony, the girl was abandoned and 
entirely deserted, Morelia managing to keep himself 
out of her reach, by frequently moving about and 
changing his names and addresses, hoping by these 
means to tire her out, and put an end to her impor- 
tunities for assistance and protection. 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


53 


TEe young lady, by name Felice Cartine, thus 
basely discarded by her lover, and having, through 
her own rash and thoughtless conduct, entirely for- 
feited the respect, sympathy, and confidence of the 
family in whose service she had been so long en- 
gaged, turned with her child — ^where only she could, 
where hundreds and thousands of others of her poor 
frail sisters before her had turned — into ^Hhe streets,’^ 
utterly forsaken, friendless, deserted, and forgotten. 
One knows only too well, by the hordes of hideously- 
painted mortal wrecks that daily and nightly prome- 
nade our thoroughfares, what the term means, and 
what a terrible significance it possesses for the 
future of those poor cast-off members of society who 
— until they commit follies, the rashness of which no 
one would have credited them as capable of, and are 
unfortunate or perhaps indiscreet enough to be dis- 
covered — might continue to enjoy their share of the 
world’s good things, and exist, amid prosperity and 
plenty, aye, even loved and respected. 

But once a wrong step has been taken and found 
out, the whole of that great, ignoble, and priggish 
army of our highly moral Sneerwells — ^the feminine 
members in particular — are up in arms immediately, 
pursuing the poor victims of weakness and foolish- 
ness with a rancour as relentless and venomous as it 
is indescribable. However patient she may be, 
however acute her sufferings, however plaintive hei* 
pleading for pity, sympathy, and forgiveness, the 
wretched Magdalen of this nineteenth century, in 
this a so-called Christian country, amid a so-called 
religious people, especially distinguished by the 
sheen of its self-righteous broadcloth and the fine 
old-crusted flavour of its smug sanctimoniousness, is 


54 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


spurned, scorned, and scoffed at by those of her own 
sex, who would just be as injudicious, just as weak, 
just as faulty, and just as guilty as she happens to 
be, if they could or dared. 

It was a very short and rapid journey from a trusted 
post in a respectable family to the place Avhere I first 
met Felice — a flashy house, with some flashy, dis- 
reputable people, in a flashy portion of Maida Vale, 
whence I had been dispatched to look for, and where 
I had succeeded in finding and arresting, a woman 
who had stolen some elderly inebriated fool’s watch 
and chain and money. 

I was struck with Felice’s appearance, as she was 
quietly dressed, and possessed every evidence of 
having been well brought up: a striking contrast to 
the life she had then just commenced to lead. When 
she learned that a detective was in the house, she 
expressed herself anxious to see me to ask if I could 
assist her in discovering the whereabouts of Morelia, 
whom she spoke of in a very bitter, revengeful spirit, 
declaring that on account of his treachery she would 
search high and low for the purpose of punishing 
him in some way or other. I think I never in all my 
life saw any one, let alone a woman, so overcome 
with passion, and I felt sure that if her peccant lover 
had been anywhere at that moment within her reach 
she would have done him some personal violence. 

Thoroughly roused and infuriated, she, with all 
the fire of her nature, hissed, “I will see him properly 
rewarded yet.” It boded ill for Morelia if he ven- 
tured to put himself within the reach of her clutches, 
I could see that, so giving her my name, and telling 
her that Scotland Yard would find me at any time if 
she had any information as to where Morelia might 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


55 


perhaps be located. I further informed her that I 
should be glad to hear from her, and would do what 
I could on her behalf, particularly as she had told 
me, upon my asking for particulars concerning him, 
that when on the Continent he had objected most 
strongly to visit Spain — ^which she had hoped they 
would — ^for the reason, as Morelia confessed to her 
(and this was the first she had heard of it), that the 
Government had strong reasons for his not remaining 
there. She had merely thought that something purely 
of a political nature had taken place, and did not 
then trouble any more about it. When she informed 
me of this, I asked her if she had a photograph of 
Morelia; whereupon she immediately produced one, 
which she carried about with her, and I came away 
with it, after having seen the woman I wanted placed 
in the charge of the policeman who had accom- 
panied me. 

When I got back to the ^^Yard,” I made enquiries 
from some of the detectives who had been engaged 
in watching the band of Carlists, which soon became 
broken up and dispersed at the conclusion of the 
insurrection, there being no reason for the members 
continuing to meet when they discovered that their 
cause was rendered thoroughly hopeless. The police 
had entirely lost sight of the young fellow; but 
when I exhibited the photogroph, it was instantly 
recognised as being that of the suspected leader of 
the Sydenham gang. 

Thereupon the Madrid authorities were commu- 
nicated with, a description of Morelia being sent, 
and the question asked what was known about him. 
A reply immediately came back that Morelia not 
only was forbidden the country on political grounds, 


56 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


but that he had also committed forgery, and had 
robbed the Union Bank of Spain of bonds to a large 
amount, and was, therefore, if I may put it in this 
way, very much wanted.” Thus it was, in this 
somewhat roundabout sort of fashion, that I came to 
learn something of the pedigree and something of 
the history of the dashing, unscrupulous young ‘ 
Carlist chief. 

Then commenced the task of finding him. I and 
others searched higli and low, here, there, and every- 
where; visited his old haunts, sought out several of his 
friends and former companions, but all with the same 
negative and unsatisfactory results. Weeks passed 
this way, without any progress at all being reported. 

Meantime, the pretty and revengeful Felice had not 
in the slightest subdued her hate or abandoned her 
endeavours to track Morelia down if such a thing 
were possible, arid I must say that 1 never saw hatred 
and revenge so patiently and persistently persevered 
in as I did at that time; in fact, she seemed rather to 
increase in her determination than otherwise, and at 
last was rewarded for her perseverance, for, having 
one day paid a third or a fourth visit to one of 
Morelia’s friends with a view of obtaining some 
news of him, she was told by this gentleman that he 
had seen Morelia only the day previous, and had 
agreed with him to make up a jovial party, all 
Spaniards, and visit the Inventions Exhibition. 

I therefore became the recipient of a telegram. 

^^Look out for a number of Spaniards going to 
Exhibition. Cartine. ” 

By this time I had become so familiar with 
Morelia’s appearance from the descriptions so re- 
peatedly given, and the careful and frequent studies 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


57 


of the photograph, that I felt convinced, I could, with 
comparative ease, have myself picked him out among 
even the largest crowd. To assist me in my identifi- 
cation I learned that Morelia had fought, so it was 
reported, no less than eight duels, chiefiy in connec- 
tion with endeavours to appease the honour of several 
gentlemen whose domestic affairs had been consider- 
ably deranged by our fire-eating friend’s indiscreet 
amours and other peccadillos of an equally interest- 
ing and elevating chat*acter, wherein the deterring 
infiuence of the sword rather than the horsewhip is 
sought — and bore several scars as uie result, thus 
rendering his recognition, as I concluded, a com- 
parative easy task. 

Accompanied by Sergeant Bartells, who was a 
sagacious, reliable, more-of-action-thaii-words sort of 
young man, I visited the exhibition, and together Tve 
made a very diligent, though unsuccessful, search 
through the grounds and various buildings. I there- 
fore, as a final resource, determined to plant myself 
in such a position in the underground passage — which 
I daresay my readers will very well remember — ^that 
I could command a full and unbroken view of the two 
exits. 

After waiting a considerable time, feeling very hot 
Yery uncomfortable, and, as Bartells feelingly re- 
marked, very thirsty — ^for, with the immense traffic 
and w^ant of ventilation, I can only describe the effects 
of remaining in the passage as being something equi- 
valent to laying in a recently discharged cannon — a 
group consisting of four apparently very gay and 
frivolous foreigners came up, I soon detected from 
their conversation that they were Spaniards, and, 
among them, T fancied that I recognised Morelia; but 


58 


DETECTIVE STORIEfl. 


still 1 was not sufficiently positive, in spite of my pre- 
vious inclination to believe that I was fully capable 
of picking him out wherever he might be, to warrant 
my arresting him, and as the consequences of getting 
hold of the wrong man are sometimes very severe, I 
did not feel disposed to spoil matters by being in too 
great a hurry. I therefore determined to follow the 
four, and, making a sign to Bartells to come after me, ^ 
we all passed out into the open thoroughfare. 

This would be about ten o’clock (I had been engaged 
in tlie work from about two, spending the whole of 
the afternoon and evening in looking out for them), 
and they made their way, walldng the whole distance, 
to Piccadilly, calling at several cafes for ‘‘refresh- 
ment ” en route. They dallied about, in and out 
among the crowd of characters which usually occupy 
the pavements from Old Bond Street to the “ Circus,” 
for some considerable time, getting into conversation 
witli first one and then another set of females, until 
“ Big Ben ” struck twelve. They then, still walking, 
proceeded towards Charing Cross, both Bartells and 
myself thoroughly fagged out, and ravenously hun- 
gry. Here they had a long and, judging from their 
continued laughter, an amusing gossip. They then 
all shook hands, saluted each other with a good-night, 
raised their hats and separated — our suspect going 
a short distance down Parliament Street, when he 
hired a hansom, and dix)ve to Stoke ]!sewingtom 
There he got out, paid the driver, and let himself, 
with a latchkey, into a house some twenty yards fur- 
ther on. It was then about a quarter past one. 

I had promised Felice that I would, if it was in my 
power to do so, let her be present at Morelia’s arrest. 
It was, she assured me, “her one great wish, a grati- 


EKVOLUnON, KOBBERY, AND BEVENaB. 59 

fication she could hardly too highly appreciate, 
besides esteeming it a particular ^ personal favour.’ ” 
I must candidly confess that after all I was not too 
sure of my ^^find,” and knowing nothing personally 
of the individual I required, I was only too pleased 
to have this additional means of identification should 
it be found necessary, so I therefore despatched 
Bartells in a cab for the injured lady. He was lucky 
enough to find her indoors, and at half-past four in 
the morning, in almost open daylight, we all three 
stood outside the house deliberating upon what w^as 
the best course to pursue under the circumstances. 
I planted Bartells behind a low wall in a garden at 
the back of the house, and requesting Felice to take 
her station a few yards higher up the street, I 
knocked loudly three or four times at the front door. 

After a while, a scared, elderly lady, in all the 
regalia of nocturnal habiliments, popped her white- 
capped head out of an upper window, and, in a 
piping, trembling voice, asked who was there and 
what was wanted. 

I promptly informed her that we were police- 
officers, and demanded admission. A considerable 
time elapsed before the old lady put in an appear- 
ance; she was evidently a very slow dresser, but at 
last she came down and unfasWed the door, looking 
more frightened than ever and almost breathless 
with excitement. 

I asked her if she had a Spanish gentleman in the 
house, and she at once replied, ^‘Oh, yes, a Mr. 
Burgos.” have a warrant for his apprehension,” 
I replied, ^‘and must see him forthwith.” This state- 
ment nearly did” for the old woman, who, very 
much overcome by the intelligence, anxiously 


60 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


enquired if it was anything serious. ^^Well, pretty 
middling/’ I said; ^^but you had better show me his 
room.”- By this time I had beckoned to Felice, and 
she, at the old lady’s suggestion, took a seat in the 
little front parlour, whilst I followed the ancient 
dame upstairs to a small bedroom at the top and back 
of the house, tapped at and opened the door, which 
was unfastened, walked in, and awoke ^^Mr. Burgos,”"" 
who was in bed. He seemed very much perturbed 
at his, as he explained, being treated in that, to him, 
unceremonious manner, and put on a very haughty 
air. After I had, however, produced my warrant 
and read a feAv lines of that formidable document 
to him he quickly realised that such was not the 
occasion to cavil at any brusqueness I might have 
appeared to have displayed; and just at that par- 
ticular moment the old lady suddenly collapsed into 
a faint, upon which I opened the window and whistled 
for Bartells to come up, Felice letting him in. Then, 
after we had fixed” the old woman up again, I told 
Morelia — for, of course, it was he — to dress himself 
and accompany us at once to King Street. 

He didn’t seem to relish the idea at all; pretended 
to be astonished, denied any knowledge of the crime 
he was charged with, and said that we should be 
punished for our infamous, brutal conduct, and a 
whole lot more to the same effect, when Bartells, 
whom I noticed was beginning to fume at the delay, 
ever practical, promptly put in with, ^^Look ’ere, 
young fellow, we’ve just had about enough of 
that. We have had nearly sixteen hours without 
a break or a crust in trying to get hold of 
you, and we can very well afford to excuse your 
eloquence for some other hearing and a more appre* 


EEVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


61 


ciative audience.” Finishing his toilet in silence, 
Don Justos Gonzales Morelia was carefully piloted 
down the stairs. 

When we got into the passage I requested our 
capture to follow us into the little parlour where 
Felice was sitting, and the scene that iJien took pla<‘e 
beggars all my poor powers of description. In a 
moment Morelia guessed who had been the cause of 
his arrest, and poured out on Felice^s head a perfect 
volley of execrations. Felice, with a fierce light (I 
have often seen jealous, wronged women in real life, 
I have as frequently seen them upon the stage, but 
never shall I forget the hating, triumphant smile that 
woman assumed) in her eyes, said not a single word; 
and, when we at last took our departure, we could 
see her, as we were leaving the room, still following 
every movement of Morel! a^s with a strange mocking 
look until at last he succumbed to her gaze, withdrew 
as rapidly as he could, and became thoroughly dumb- 
to unde d and crest-fallen. We ai)ologised to the old 
lady for troubling her so unceremoniously, and 
Drought our man aAvay. 

In due time Morelia was charged before the magi- 
stj*ate, but remanded several times OAving to the non- 
arrival of the depositions from Spain, and here I may 
take the opportunity to mention the extreme hard- 
ships which extradition prisoners aire called upon to 
undergo, with the sincere hope that the i)ublicity I 
am giving to them may be the means of procuring 
their amelioration. If they are amended 1 shall feel 
that whatever may be the demerits — I can hardly 
venture to hope merits — of this little book, and I 
fear there are many, T shall perhai)s have rendered 
some little service by pointing out, from time to 


62 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


time, such matters as I believe are capable of more 
or less improvement. 

Extradition prisoners are dealt with in two different 
ways. The hrst is — ^That at times telegrams are 
received at Scotland Yard "from some one or other 
of the foreign police autliorities requesting the 
English officials to arrest a certain person forthwith, 
adding that his or her extradition will be immediately 
applied for, the warrant in the respective country 
having been granted. 

Provided with this telegram, the police officer in 
charge of the case applies, when French prisoners are 
concerned, to M. Taillefer, advocate to the French 
embassy ; and in the case of Germans, to the consul- 
general of the German empire, &c., &c., who in turn 
apply to the chief magistrate at Bow Street Police 
Court — all extradition matters occurring within the 
Metropolis are attended to at Bow Street — ^by a sworn 
information being laid that the accused's extradition 
will in due course be demanded by their respective 
governments. 

This is done in order to make the several foreign 
authorities solely responsible for the apprehensions. 

The warrant is then granted, and the police officer 
may arrest, when a remand invariably takes place 
pending the arrival of the foreign depositions, the 
magistrate’s duty being simply to see that a ‘^prima- 
facie case is made out, and to commit the prisoner to 
take his trial in his OAvn country. 

The warrants which have been granted simply upon 
the application of the foreign representatives are 
called provisional warrants, and great hardships are 
frequently experienced by foreign prisoners, who are 
sometimes remanded from week to week (oftentmes 


REVOUJTION, BOBBERY, AND REVENGE. 68 

« 

for a period of two months) in the House of Detention 
before the depositions reach this country, when, after 
all, tlie charge may not be proved, as I have known 
in several instances. 

And the magistrate will not accept bail in these 
cases. 

The second is a much simpler and better* one. The 
foreign power sends, prior to the application for the 
warrant, the whole of the depositions to its ambassa- 
dors in London, who in turn forward them to the 
Foreign Office, and then to Bow Street Police Court. 
The magistrate, upon perusal, may then grant a 
warrant, which is sent to Scotland Yard for execu- 
tion. Once the prisoner is arrested, the depositions 
ab*eady in the hands of the magistrate are read to 
him, and he may, on the first hearing, be at once 
committed. But I may mention tliat even in this 
manner of conducting cases, foreign prisoners ex- 
perience in some instances very unfair treatment — 
or, at least, it was so up to the time of my leaving 
Scotland Yard in 1887, as the prisoner, after being 
committed, has actually to remain in this country, 
even when he has pleaded guilty to the charge, fifteen 
days, and which is not taken into consideration at 
his sentence, before his extradition can take place. 

The w^ay foreign prisoners are conveyed to their 
respective countries is as follows: — ^Four days prior 
10 the expiration of the fifteen days the officer in 
charge of the “ case’’ makes his report to the super- 
intendent, stating when the time expires, and he. 
In turn, submits the name of the officer who has 
arrested the prisoner to the Home Office. Two 
warrants are then issued, signed by the Home Secre- 
tary himself — one directing the keeper of the House 


64 


DETEOnVE . 8TORI1SS. 


of Detention to hand the of the prisoner to 

the officer, and the other for the officer, who gets a 
receipt upon it for the prisoner’s ^^body” from the 
foreign authorities; the second warrant being, on the 
return of the police officer, returned to the Home 
Office. 

Extradition prisoners for France and Italy are con- 
veyed by the usual route to Calais; those for Germany 
and Austria are taken to Hamburg by water. 

After the usual delay, the cause of which I have 
just endeavoured to explain, Morelia was duly extra- 
dited, and I was charged with the proper delivery of 
his body to the authorities at Vigo. My readers will 
be surprised to learn that this was the first, and, up 
to the present, has been the only, extradition between 
Spain and England; they will perhaps be more sur- 
prised to learn that, contrary to the general belief, 
there is a very comprehensive treaty of extradition 
in force between the two countries, which applies 
to and covers a large number of crimes, and which 
I here give a copy of : — 

Convention W Extradition conclue entre VAngleterreet VEspagne, 

Signed at London, June 4th, 1878. 

Ratifications exchanged at London, November 
21st, 1878. 

The extradition shall be reciprocally granted for 
the following crimes or offences 

1 . Murder. 

2. Manslaughter. 

3. Administering drugs. 

4. Rape. 

6. Aggravated or indecent assault. 

6. Kidnapping. 

7. Abduction of minors. 

8. Bigamy. 


REVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


65 


9. Wounding or inflicting bodily harm. 

10. Assaulting a magistrate or peace or public officer. 

11. Threats, by letter or otherwise, with intent to 

extort money or other things of value. 

12. Perjury, or subornation of perjury. 

IS. Arson. 

14. Burglary or housebreaking, robbery with violence, 

larceny or embezzlement. 

15. Fraud by a bailee, banker, agent, factor, trustee, 

director, member, or public officer of any com- 
pany made criminal by any law for the tinieJ 
being in force. 

16. Obtaining money or other valuables by false pre- 

tences, or receiving same knowing them to have 
been unlawfully obtained. 

17. (a) Counterfeiting or altering money, or bringing 

into circulation counterfeit or altered money. 

(b) Forgery, or counterfeiting or altering or utter- 
ing what is forged, counterfeited, or altered. 

(c) Knowingly making, without lawful authority, 
any instrument, tool, or engine adapted and 
intended for the counterfeiting of coin of the 
realm. 

18. Crimes committed against bankruptcy law. 

19. Any malicious act done to endanger persons in a 

railway train. 

20. Malicious injury to property, if such offence bo 

indictable. 

21. Crimes committed at sea. 

(a) Piracy by the law of nations. 

(b) Sinking or destroying a vessel at sea, or attempt- 
ing or conspiring to do so. 

(c) Kevolt or conspiracy to revolt by two or more 
persons on board a ship on the high seas against 
the authority of the master. 

(d) Assault on board a ship on the high seas with 
intent to destroy life or do grievous bodily harm. 

22. Dealing in slaves in such manner as to constitute an 

offence against the laws of both countries. 


66 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


And still more suiprised to hear that Spain Is not, 
as is generally believed, the happy and safe hunting- 
ground for all the mminals and wrongdoers who 
may flee to it. If the law were properly put into 
force it would be a very difiicult thing indeed for 
those who try to escape from English justice to 
secure a refuge in that country. But they will not 
in the least be surprised to learn that Scotland Yard, 
on the occasion of this particular arrest, found itself, 
from its unfamiliarity of the necessary processes to 
go through, in considerable undecidedness how’ to 
act. The position was a little difiicult, for if I had 
taken Morelia through any other country— say, 
France — ^the probability would be that the extra- 
dition would become forfeited and valueless, as it is 
impossible to tell upon what extraditionary terms 
that or any other foreign country might be on with 
Spain. Therefore, to make matters absolutely safe, 
instead of proceeding the usual way, I had to take 
Morelia from Southampton by water direct to Vigo. 
A difficulty also arose here, for the steamship owners, 
not at all unreasonably, object to convey prisoners, 
as the passengers don’t like it if it is discovered. I 
got out of the mess by booking passages under 
assumed names by the Koyal Mail Steam Packet 
Company, but this necessitated my giving Morelia 
almost perfect freedom of action on the boat, and as he 
had got into such a despondingly wretched condition, 
I was not quite sure what he might not take it into 
his head to do if he had the opportunity. I managed, 
however, to get our berths in the same cabin, and, 
therefore, watched him prfetty well, but at meal 
times he was put, and I could raise no objection to 


EEVOLUTION, ROBBERY, AND REVENGE. 


67 


it, right at the opposite end of the table to me, and 
these times proved of extreme anxiety to me, for I 
half expected that at any moment he might feel 
disposed to secrete a knife and make aw^ay with him- 
self on the first favourable chance. Of course I did 
not inform the captain of the cause or intent of my 
journey, and, therefore, Morelia and I were treated 
precisely in the same way ^as ordinary passengers, 
under the assumed names of Monsieurs Menchould 
and Autun, which led to some confusion on our 
arrival, for, naturally Scotland Yard had advised the 
Vigo authorities that Monsieurs Moser and Morelia, 
giving our real names, would arrive by the boat from 
Southampton. We at length reached Vigo, after a 
very troublesome passage through the ^^Bay,” at 
about four o’clock in the morning, both Morelia and 
myself being asleep when the ship arrived in the 
harbour, but were awakened by a very noisy dis- 
cussion (in Spanish) taking place on deck. 

tell you they are not on board,” I heard the 
captain say. 

^^But they must be/’ persisted some other voice, 
^^for I have had advice from the British authorities 
that they would come by your boat.” 

have no such persons on board, I tell you. We 
have neither a policeman nor a prisoner, and what is 
more, we haven’t any passengers at all bearing those 
names. Have we, purser?” said the captain, bad 
temperedly. 

^^No,” exclaimed that functionary in a vicious 
manner; ^^they seem to know more about it than we 
do ourselves.” 

By this time, Morelia and I had dressed, and got up 
on deck. I then saw that it was a batch of Spanish 

B 2 


68 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


police officers in a government dingliy waiting for us, 
and very soon explained that we were the two indi- 
viduals they were instructed to meet. We got into 
the Boat and went ashore, amid some farewells, any- 
thing But complimentary, from ^^Mr. Captain,’’ wlio 
appeared so decidedly sold and seemed very angry 
when he discovered who we really were. 

I handed the “Body” of my prisoner — ^together with 
property consisting of about £10,000 in bonds, the 
remaining Balance of some £12,000 worth he had 
obtained by the forgery, and which I discovered 
among his Belongings at Stoke Newington — over to 
the authorities. Morelia was then unceremoniously 
pushed into a wretched cell in the dirty, cramped, 
windowless, desolate-looking building which served 
the purpose of a prison in the place, and, after obtain- 
ing the requisite official receipt, I made my way at 
once back home to the jetty, wh6re, within six hours, 
I was taken by another boat to Southampton. 

I was rather inclined to feel a little sorry for 
Moreiia having to undergo, perhaps, a very long term 
of imprisonment whilst in just the primest portion 
of his life. I never heard what his sentence exactly 
was, although I gathered that it would be a severe 
one. The little feeling of sympathy I may have had, 
and perhaps expressed for him, however, was rapidly 
evaporated when I learned afterwards that, in addi- 
tion to his crime of forgery, his guilt as regards his 
reckless work among the Carlists, and his unpardon- 
able conduct towards Felice, he had also, although 
posing as a “single” man, despicably deserted his 
wife and two children. 

About Felice? Oh, yes! Of course, you will want 
to know what became of her ; and I have not forgotten 




REVOLUTION, ROBBERY; AND REVENGE. 69 

her. She, somehow or other, in an almost miraculous 
f>’anner, managed to shake off the fetters which were 
binding her to the frightful life she had been per- 
force compelled to yield to, and when I saw her last 
it was in one of the large towns in the midlands. She 
looked as pretty as ever — prettier, in fact, for she was 
more contented, as she had been able to secure a very 
satisfactory appointment as travelling and general 
companion with an elderly lady, who took a great 
liking to her, and I pity the man who would venture 
to try on any nonsense with her now. 


AMONG THE FENIANS: 

AN EPISODE OF THE MANSION HOUSE 
OUTRAGE. 

As I remember James Stephens, the notorious ^^Head 
Centre’^ — and I have every reason to remember him; 
for did not the Scotland Yard authorities instruct 
me to visit Paris, and whilst there, to carefully watch 
and note every movement of that audacious indi- 
vidual ? which instructions I — as far as I was able — 
industriously and faithfully carried out — ^he ap- 
peared about fifty years of age, some five feet eight 
inches in height, slightly built, with a decided and 
benevolent-looking “ stoop, grey hair, and a long, 
grizzly, straggling sort of beard, careless, if not 
actually untidy in his dress, but possessing a most 
intelligent face, full of character and determination; 
together with two of as lustrous and penetrating eyes 
as one would wish to see. Anyone, in a single glance, 
could perceive that he was a man of undoubted power 
and resolution; his wiry figure, his thin hands, and his 
restless manner proclaimed it, if nought else did; 
but, in addition, every line of his prominent features 
bore evidence to the untoward will power of their 
owner. The more I saw of Stephens the more did I 
marvel at his wonderful sagacity and sangfroid. 

His personal history and the efforts on behalf of 
the cause he had so patiently and so persistently 
championed are too well known to require recapitu- 
lation at my hands; suffice it for me to say that James 


71 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 

Stephens stands out almost unique among even the 
most ardent of the firebrained and so-called '^ad- 
vanced ” Irish party. 

A man who can absolutely defy the laws and 
treat the awful "warning ” he received on account 
of his actions directed against the well-being of tlie 
country which imprisoned and condemned him to 
death because of his treasonable practices with the 
greatest possible contempt is no ordinary mortal, 
whatever other opinion we may hold of him, his 
motives, or his operations; but when that person, as 
it were, just managed by the mere teeth to make good 
his escape from the noose of the hangman, seeks a 
place of refuge in some other land, and from there, 
out-defying defiance, with the greatest possible un- 
concernedness of the great risks he has already rim 
and the many dangers he has passed, can still plot 
and re-plot for the destruction of lives and property 
in the very country he has been compelled so igno- 
miniously to flee from, he proves himself to be daring 
and intrepid almost beyond measure. 

Do not misunderstand me, nor think for one single 
moment that I am desirous of, in the slightest possible 
degree, in my apparent admiration of the superior 
physical indifference and mental control of Stephens, 
to gloss over or palliate the unquestionable enormity 
of the offences which have been instigated, and even 
perpetrated, by individuals of this class, for I have 
personally the utmost abhorrence — ^as must have 
every right-minded person — of nefarious and abomi- 
nable works of this description, for those who can 
deliberately and studiously contrive to plan out and 
give effect to the horrible crimes whereby human life 
has been, from time to time, so ruthlessly taken, 


72 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


not only justly earn the utmost loathing and disgust 
of every law-abiding citizen— whatever his feelings 
'or politics may happen to be — ^but rightly and 
properly deserve to be held up to universal 
execration. 

Stephens, after being outlawed from this kingdom, 
immediately made his way to the United States, 
there bringing his great powers of organisation into 
play by the establishment of American branches of 
the Clan-na-Gael. And very successful he was, both 
as regards securing men and means. The men — ^if 
monsters like them can be allowed the name — ^rv'ere 
just such as one could only expect a class of that 
kind to be — a set of characterless vagabonds, prowl- 
ing about ready and willing to join anybody or 
anything so long as there were only some lawlessness 
at the bottom of it, and some pay — scoundrels who 
formed the off scourings and dregs of the Bowery, 
steeped in vice and filth and treason. The means 
were obtained from subscriptions and subsidies — 
often given in ignorance of the true nature of the 
unholy compact who handled and distributed the 
funds — ^by respectable and responsible people, who 
had usually been led away with specious promises 
and exaggerated reports, vainly imagining all the 
time that they were affording aid to the, perhaps, 
legitimate action of self-government or Home Eule, 
but too ignorant, or too enthusiastic, or too good 
natured, to enquire; and thus many thousands of 
pounds became diverted from what was, perhaps, at 
the worst and at the outset only a harmless political 
amusement to the propagation of the all-serious, the 
startling, and the revolutionary regime of Fenianism. 
. Stephens, although he might be at the time, and he 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


73 


undoubtedly was, unaware of it, was carefully 
watched from the very instant he placed his feet upon 
the soil of the Eagle, his every movement anticipated, 
his each footstep noted, and from time to time for the 
whole of the period he remained in America, until 
he visited France, reports were regularly sent home 
to the British Government, for there were men, 
(acting on behalf of our country), call them spies if 
you will, but they are men to whom this country 
owes a debt of gratitude for the fearlessness and care 
which they have displayed in carrying out their in- 
tricate, and fulfilling their dangerous but important 
duties, as familiar with the whole proceedings of the 
American Fenian body as was Stephens himself, 
which is saying a great deal, and had the Head 
Centre, by accident or design at any one moment 
placed his foot upon British land he would have been 
at once arrested and handed over to the gallows, and 
the same conditions apply to him now at this very 
moment should he prove himself suflBiciently unwary 
to venture amongst us again. 

When trouble began to thicken in Ireland in 1880, 
Stephens, who had made very considerable progress 
with his work in the States, thought that he could’, 
with advantage to himself and his colleagues, be 
much nearer the scenes of action, and therefore made 
up his mind to visit France, this position enabling 
him to confer more easily with his supporters, and 
permit of an easier and more intimate knowledge of 
their doings— for dire plans had been planned, and 
diabolical plots had been plotted, and it was hoped 
that they would have been carried out to a very much 
greater extent than they were, for they certainly 
were intended to prove more disastrous, and they 


74 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


might have been but for the foresight and quickened 
intelligence of the English authorities. He left 
America on a date v^hich Scotland Yard was duly 
apprised of, bound for Havre, arriving there shortly 
after by the Messageries Translantique; I, having 
received particulars of his journey, acting upon in- 
structions, awaiting him. 

After staying at Havre for a few hours, Stephens 
- proceeded to Paris, and there for some seven long 
dreary, anxious months I diligently shadowed’^ him, 
followed him about, took cognisance of all his doings, 
and, in fact, became, so to speak, his counterpart. 

It is hardly necessary for me to describe in detail 
the whole of his actions during the period of observa- 
tion mentioned, as nothing of any particular moment 
occurred beyond what had been fully anticipated by 
the English authorities — ^i.e., that he would use his 
best endeavours to organise his friends and forces in 
England for the purpose of executing the designs he 
had in view; but as every item of information as to 
his workings was promptly sent over by me to Scot- 
land Yard, his followers in London were, as may be 
truly guessed, pretty sharply looked after, much to 
their disgust and greatly to Stephens’ disappointment, 
as, owing to the small amount of work got through by 
them, he, not knowing the actual state of things 
himself, that the eyes of the Government were fairly 
wide open, concluded that greater portion of it was 
being funked.” 

However, I may mention that Stephens had not 
been long in Paris before he became on more or less 
intimate terms with that peculiar and irrepressible 
piece of humanity, Henri Kochefort. These two 
possessing ideas of a revolutionary character in 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


75 


common, and both being talented, ener^tic^ sanguine, 
undaunted men, this acquaintance, of course, led to 
the ^‘Head Centre’^ being introduced to those turbu- 
lent spirits, the leaders of the “Advanced” party in 
France; also that Stephens^ wife was much younger 
than her peace-disturbing husband, and was a 
daughter of one who had more or less distinguished 
himself at one time or the other by the “extremity 
of his views,” and who was, in addition, an ardent 
supporter of Stephens’ mission. 

During the earlier portion of the time I was in 
Paris, it appeared that two members of the Fenian 
party, no doubt delegates from, and acting under the 
instructions of, the American gang (for I could not 
trace in any way their being in direct communication 
with Stephens), were busily engaged endeavouring to 
cany out some of their fiendish schemes in London, 
and these two seemed to have a tolerably free and 
open course for their infamous operations, as they 
had managed by their extreme caution, up to the 
time of which I write, to remain, although looked 
after fairly closely, perfectly unsuspected by the 
police of being actually engaged in the work. They 
had, to allay suspicion, lodgings in different parts 
of London, working cordially and energetically into 
each other’s hands — in fact, passing current, for they 
were apparently steady men, and regular in their 
habits, as two fairly respectable representatives of 
the artisan class. 

One day London, and indeed the whole of the 
country, was overwhelmed with consternation at the 
announcement of the dastardly attempt to blow up 
the Mansion House, an account of which, to refresh 
the m^ories of my readers, is here given; — 


76 


DETECTIVE STORIES, 


About eleven o’clock last night the policeman on duty 
at the Mansion House discovered a box containing gun- 
powder lying on one of the ledges in a recess on the 
east side of the Mansion House building, nearly opposite 
the end of Georjge Street. Observing that some paper 
attached to the end of the box was alight, the policciiian 
bravely pulled the box against his breast, thus instantly 
smothering the fire. A closer examination then disclosed 
that the box— which is about twenty-eight inches long, by 
twenty-four inches wide, and five deep, and strongly bound 
with iron— contained 15 lb. of coarse gunpowder. The 
gunpowder was lying loosely on the bottom of the box, 
filling it about one-third full ; whilst on the top of it, lay 
a number of pieces of old newspapers, a canvas bag, and 
a carpet-bag, both evidently used to carry the powder. 

^‘An ordinary fuse ran from the gunpowder, ihrongh 
a hole in the box, to the outside, and the paper attached 
to the outer part of the box would, in a second or two, 
have ignited the fuse and produced an explosion, but for 
the fortunate arrival and courage of the policeman. No 
arrests have been made. Several persons were employed 
at the time in the neighbourhood working on the new 
electric light apparatus, and many of them would, doubt- 
less, have been injured had the gunpowder exploded. 

“The Lord Mayor was not at home at the time, and, 
indeed, no one was in the part of the building where the 
box was placed, so that, if it wa^ placed for anyone in- 
side, they would have escaped injury. 

“The liord Mayor thinks it may have been the work 
of some Fenian or other miscreant, who designed to destroy 
the building, and, if possible, injure some of its inmates. 

“ As no one was seen near at the time, the police are not 
over sanguine of being able to detect the guilty parties.^’ 

The Press Association says “ There was great excite- 
ment in the City this morning in consequence of the attempt 
to blow up the Mansion House with gunpowder. 

“ At first the statement was discredited, but confirmatory 
reports w'ere soon circulated and set all doubt at rest. No 
trace of the perpetrators of the offence has yet been ob^ 


AHOKG THE FENIANS. 


77 


tained, and so secretly was the attempt made that the 
officers of justice have little on which to establish a clue. 

“ I hat the outrageous design was a determined and 
deeply meditated one is but too evident from the manner 
in which the large quantity of gunpowder was prepared. 

'' It was Lightly packed in a box bound with iron hoops, 
From the size of the box it could not well have been carried 
at midnight without attracting the attention of the police, 
and the theory is that it was taken to the Mansion House 
in a cab. Whether, however, this suiiposition be correct 
there are no means of ascertaining. The box was very 
aptly bestowed if the object was to create the largest 
amount of damage possible. 

“ On the east side of the Mansion House is a narrow 
passage-way, not more than three feet wide, called the 
Church Walk; and underneath the east window of the 
Egyptian Hall, in which the Lord Mayor holds his recep- 
tions, the box and the ignited materials were found by the 
police officer. The spot is a very secluded one, and might 
easily have been overlooked by the constable. It was at 
great risk to his life that he extinguished the flame, which 
would shortly have exploded the gunpowder. 

‘‘The authorities are at a loss to account for the dia- 
bolical attempt. 

The place selected for it is a considerable distance from 
the police cells, and even had it been nearer them the 
prisoners are not confined there at night. 

“ The only supposition which is entertained in official 
quarters bearing anything like the semblance of proba- 
bility is that the Lord Mayor, in the House of Commons, 
has voted with the Government on the Coercion measures 
for Ireland. 

“ It is not improbable that his Lordship, who is himself 
an Irishman, may have given offence to some of his fellow- 
countrymen, and that to this circumstance may be attri- 
buted the dastardly, but happily unsuccessful design. 

“The walls underneath the Egyptian Hall are of im- 
mense thickness, and although the quantity of gunpowder 


T8 


DETECT I VB STOBIBB. 


was large, it is not likely it would have caused the amount 
of damage which perhaps the culprits anticipated.^’ 
OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE DISCOVERY. 

The following is an official report of the discovery 
“ The constable on the beat in George Street, last night 
at about a quarter past eleven, observed a box in a recess 
of a built-up window on the east side of the Mansion House, 
facing the end of George Street. 

' ‘ On close approach to the spot he found enclosed in 
brown paper a small box. The paper was smouldering. 

This he extinguished, and took the box to the station. 

‘‘It was found to contain about 36 or 40 lb. of coarse 
gunpowder, with a fuse through a hole in the box commu- 
nicating with the powder. This fuse— that is the upper 
end of it— was in close proximity with the smouldering 
brown paper outside the case. 

“ Had the constable not seen it as he did, no dr abt an 
explosion would have taken place.” 

ATTEMPT TO BLOW UP THE MANSION HOUSE. 

“ No arrests have yet been made in connection with the 
attempt to blow up the Mansion House on Wednesday night. 

“ The police have, however, obtained a clue to the prob- 
able perpetrators, and although not over sanguine, they 
at the same time do not despair of being able to detect the 
criminals. It is thought that an arrest may be made 
in the course of to-day or to-morrow.’’ 

Eeferring to the insinuation that Irishmen were con- 
nected with the outrage at the Mansion House, the Dublin 
“Freeman’s Journal” says:— “The idea of any Irishman 
being guilty of such a crime as trying to blow up the 
London Mansion House, inhabited as it is by the first 
Irishman who ever we re the chain of Lord Mayor of London, 
is a hypothesis which it was a gross insult to Ireland to 
broach and an insult to her to refute. 

“A correspondent informs us that the first person to 
notice the box was a Mrs. Carr, housekeeper at No. 1, 
George Street, who brought a policeman from the front 
of the Mansion House to it, thinking it was stolen pro- 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


79 


property ; she then observed something attached to it Which 
was on fire, which she, and not the officer, extinguished with 
her foot.’^ 


THE ATTEMPT ON THE MANSION HOUSE. 

The ‘‘Freeman’s Journal’’ says;—* We do not know 
whether or not we ought to notice a most dastardly insinua- 
tion which has been made in certain quarters of England, 
connecting, without one tittle of evidence, the name of 
Ireland and Irishmen with this real or imaginary outrage. 
Imaginary, we say possibly, for after a recent incident 
in our own city, we would like to hear more of the details 
of this strange-looking story before we make up our minds 
as to its genuineness. But let us suppose, for argument’s 
sake, that some madman has really attempted to cause an 
explosion under the walls of the London Mansion House, 
we ask again what tittle of evidence there is to justify any 
man in daring to mention the name of Ireland in connection 
with such ^ crime ?r 

“ The shell is a favourite weapon with Continental Reds ; 
the powder-can, with a slow match attached, is a great 
factor in trade union quarrels in Sheffield and elsewhere ; 
but the name of Irishmen has never been connected with 
such atrocities. The men who blew down the wall at 
Clerkenwell to rescue their friends inside were guilty of 
folly in not reflecting on the consequences of such an act in 
a crowded thoroughfare ; but we are sure none were more 
horrified and astonished than themselves at the dreadful 
consequences of the act. 

“The idea of an Irishman being guilty of such a mad 
explosion under the walls of the London Mansion House, 
inhabited as it is by the first Irishman who ever wore 
the chain of Lord Mayor of London, is a hyphothesis which 
it was a gross insult to Ireland to broach, and which it would 
be an insult to her to further refute. 

“No arrest has yet been made in connection with the 
attempt to blow up the Mansion House, but the police still 
have reason to hope that they will get at the bottom of the 
crime, which at present seems a mystery. The powder 


80 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


found in tlie box was weighed yesterday^ and proved to be 
no less than 40 lb. 

‘‘ An explosion of so considerable a quantity must have 
caused very serious injury and damage, and the crime is, 
to this extent, intensified, and taken out of the category 
of a harmless freak which has been suggested by some. 

‘^Mrs. Carr, who, as we stated yesterday, first saw the 
parcel, states also, that she saw a very tall w^oman, or at 
any rate someone in woman’s clothes, emerge into Georgo 
Street from the narrow passage leading into Walbrook, 
look into the -recess, and then dart back again. 

^'The Lord Mayor yesterday received congratulatory 
telegrams from the Colonies and America, besides many 
letters; and a large number of the citizens and others 
wrote their names in the visitors’ book during the day. 

Mingled with these communications were anonymous 
post-cards threatening^ further mischief. 

^'In addition to the ordinary policemen patrolling the 
neighbourhood of the Mansion House, several plain clothes 
officers are now on duty, and last night, during the con- 
versazione given by the Lord Mayor to the City Mission, 
they were reinforced by a large staff of constables under 
the immediate supervision of Major Bowman and Superin- 
tendent Foster.” 

^‘Notwithstanding the enquiries that have been made, 
and the offer of a reward of £100 for any information that 
may lead to the detection of the person who placed the box 
containing gunpowder outside the Mansion House, nothing 
whatever appears to have transpired down to the present 
tending in any way to solve the mystery, and from what 
has been ascertained, and the statements made by the 
police, there does not appear to be the least chance 
of the criminal being detected. 

“A number of persons connected with the carpentering 
trade have been to examine the box, but all of them failed 
to identify it, or to remember having made such an articlo, 
and from its general appearance it is believed to have 
been put together by an unprofessional hand for the pur- 
pose of conveying the gunpowder, and that in idl probability: 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


81 


the box was made by the person who carried it where it 
was found. The result of enquiries among the cabmen 
of the Metropolis has also not been attended with any 
satisfactory result, as no information has been obtained to 
show that any cabman conveyed a fare with a box like the 
one in question to the vicinity of the Mansion House on the 
night of the occurrence. 

“ The question of increasing the reward is said to be under 
discussion by the magistrates of the City, but the general 
impression is that it is not likely to lead to any result, and 
that the affair is likely to continue and remain a mystery.” 

The same day, or rather the same night of the dis- 
covery, the two above-mentioned men disappeared. 

I had m^'self read with intense amazement the 
account given above in the London papers sent on to 
me, and therefore was very much excited on receiv- 
ing, a little time afterwards, a telegram from Scot- 
land Yard, to the following effect: ^^Look out for 
‘Mooney’; the address followed. About five feet 
eight inches high, fair, light hair and eyes, stoutly 
built, roughly-dressed Irishman, bricklayer.” I had 
heard a good deal one way and the other of the doings 
of “Mr. Mooney,” and I therefore looked forward with 
no little interest to making his personal acquaintance, 
and proceeded at once to set about my task, having 
made temporary arrangements with the French 
police regarding the watching of “Stephens.” 

The two men who had so suddenly and mysteriously 
departed were no other than Mooney and his co- 
blackguard, Coleman. How the police discovered 
this I will briefiy explain. 

It appears that the righteous wrath and indigna- 
tion of Londoners being aroused, the authorities, 
besides offering heavy rewards, as will be remem- 
berj^, earnestly invited the co-operation of the 


82 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


public, and lodging-house keepers in particular, in 
asking them to report any suspicious circumstances 
which might have come under their cognisance, and 
giving what details they could. As the resultbf this 
appeal, complaints were made to the police by two 
persons, each remarking upon the sudden departure 
of their lodgers. Descriptions were given of both 
men. One was similar in appearance in many ways 
to the other, but lame, his limp being a very decided 
one indeed. These descriptions coincided exactly 
with those sent to Scotland Yard by the Manchester 
police authorities, who had been fortunately able to 
get a good knowledge of these men during their stay 
in that city, but who, although they had been so sus- 
pected, had managed keep themselves clear of the 
reach of the law. 

They had been compelled, as matters were getting 
rather hot for them in Manchester, to make tracks,^ 
and as London appeared to be their destination, 
Scotland Yard was duly apprised and supplied wdth 
the necessary particulars. 

An officer was at once despatched to the houses 
from whence the information had been received, con- 
cerning the departure of the tw^o men, and at the 
second — ^the lame one^s residence — visited was found 
an address impressed on a blotting pad: — 

Mooney, 

Rue de deux Ecus Halles.’^ 

This was a find ’’ with a vengeance, and Scotland 
Yard was rightly jubilant, and in consequence 
despatched to me the telegram just alluded to, and 
upon which I acted. 

In a very short time I satisfied myself that Mooney 
was staying, under the name of Gourbois, at ^ 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


83 


address given, and I soon wired back the result of. 
my search. 

Scotland Yard then sent another telegram to me: — 

^^Keep close watch; officers will come over.” 

In due course, Chief Superintendent Williamson, 
Inspectors Littlechild and Meredith, and Sergeant 
Hancock, of the City Police, together with that cute 
and enterprising detective. Chief Inspector Caminada, 
from Manchester, and several others, including a 
lady, reached Paris. 

Mooney and Coleman were undoubtedly the per- 
petrators of (what might have turned out, but for 
tlie timely discovery of the box and the plucky 
conduct of those engaged in the matter, an extremely 
disastrous affair) the Mansion House Plot, and they 
had hurried away (no doubt a carefully planned 
affair) Coleman via Havre, to America, and Mooney 
to Paris, where I discovered him. 

Owing to the strained diplomatic relationship at 
that time existing between France and this country, 
the extradition of these men could not be obtained, 
for the reason that our authorities had refused, on 
political grounds, to extradite Felix Pyat, General 
Cluseret, and others, who, immediately after the 
Commune, being suspected of implication in the 
death of the Archbishop of Paris, who was shot 
down, made, for safety’s sake, this country their 
place of refuge. Mooney and all his villainous tribe 
knew this very well when making their calculations, 
tod that it would have been illegal to arrest them; 
therefore, all that could be done was to ^^dentify” 
Mooney in such a manner that if he ever attempted 
to set foot in the British Isles again he would do so 
at his extreme peril. 

r2 


84 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


^^Goiirbois” had been pointed out to me bj the 
concierge on more than one occasion, and I obtained 
views of him quite sufficient to warrant my believing 
him to be really Mooney, but the difficulty arose how 
to get him into such a position that the whole of the 
other officials Avho had come over could do so. We 
held a consultation, and it was decided that I should 
disguise im’^self in some way or other and do the best 
I could under the circumstances, and at the least 
make a preliminary reconnoitre. 

As extensive building operations were going on 
in the immediate vi(unity of the hotel wffiere Mooney 
was staying, I concluded that if I took up the role of 
a French working man and in the morning go up to 
his bedroom and try to make him understand that 
he is wanted downstairs by some one, making that 
some one appear to be Coleman, my experiment 
might be attended with success. 

I obtained with little difficulty a blue blouse suit, a 
cap, and a pair of sabots, and found myself in a very 
short time, after smearing my face, covering !my 
clothes with dust, and paying a little attention to 
some other little details, a very fair representation of 
a French bricklayer. Speaking the language fluently 
helped me wonderfully to satisfactorily complete my 
^^get up.” 

I then went to the hotel, leaving Chief-Constable 
Williamson and the others ready to hand outside, and 
explained to the porter that I had a verbal message 
to deliver to Mons. ^^Gourbois,” therefore would he 
kindly tell me the number of his room. This he 
readily did, and I eventually reached the apartment, 
which was a little place right at the top— in the 
attics, in fact — of the building. 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


85 


Knocking at the door, I heard a sharp voice saj, 

^‘Who is there?” 

Monsieur, c’est mois!” 

''But who is it?” 

"Monsieur, monsieur, c^est mois, c’est mois,.” said I 
pretending to be unable to speak English. At this I 
could hear the ihan unfasten the door, which he did 
without getting out of bed, the room being so small. 

"Well, what the devil do you want ? ” said Mooney, 
looking not too well pleased at being disturbed. 

"Descendez, monsieur.” Here I imitated, as well 
as I could, what I thought to be Coleman^s limp. For 
a time he did not recognise what I meant, but on my; 
repeating the words and actions several times, aiding 
them by pointing my finger downwards, he finally 
grasped the idea I was intending to convey, and said 
very excitedly, 

"Where! where!” concluding that Coleman was 
really waiting below to see him. 

By this time, in his intense excitement, he had 
sprung out of bed and began to dress himself, and I 
could hardly restrain laughing right out at the manner 
he performed his hurried toilet. He put on his 
trousers and boots (omitting his stockings and shirt), 
fastened a paper collar and "dicky ” combined round 
his neck, dipped the fingers of his right hand into a 
bowl cont^^ining about a tumbler full of water, rubbed 
over his face, rapidly passing a pocket handkerchief, 
in lieu of a towel, across it, and thus completing his 
ablutions, got into his overcoat, and prepared to 
accompany me downstairs. 

Before he did so, however, he pulled out from under 
the bed a small black tin box, which he unlocked, and 
took out one of the most "business-like ” looking re- 


86 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


volvers that I had ever seen, which after carefully 
examining to see if it was all right, he slipped into his 
trousers pocket, and, keeping his hand upon it the 
whole time, proceeded to follow me. I led the way 
through the hall towards the entrance, when he 
suddenly di*ew back, evidently not feeling disposed 
to go any further. I pointed, however, across the 
road, as much as to indicate that Coleman was 
somewhere there, and he then stepped out on to 
the pavement, when in less than half a moment 
he was closely surrounded by the whole of the 
police officers besides the others, witnesses, who 
at once recognised him as being the same individual 
whom they knew at Manchester, I meanwhile keep- 
ing a sharp eye on his movements in order to see that 
his hand was not taken from the pocket containing 
the murderous looking weapon he placed there. 

He was too much taken aback, however, to do any- 
thing, and staggered and became livid as death, per- 
spiration broke out over his face, and I quite expected 
to see him fall over in a faint; he managed after 
a little while, however, to pull himself together, 
although it was evidently a very hard struggle to do 
so. Addressing him quietly, but in a firm and decided 
manner, Mr. Williamson said, ^‘We have come over, 
Mooney, not for the purpose of taking you back with 
us, for that we cannot do, as the laws of extradition 
as they now stand, and as you are perfectly aware, 
will not permit us, but in order that we should have 
an opportunity of being able to identify you. YouVe 
had a narrow squeak, I can tell you, and I just want 
to inform you, and you can inform your compatriot, 
Coleman, to the same effect, that if at any time, near 
or far, you or he set your feet within British juris- 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


87 


IPW 




diction again you will be dealt with as you deserve. 
We then opened out our little ring and the 
cowardly hound, regaining his liberty, slowly slunk 
away, and that was the last I saw of him. 

Having thus satisfactorily carried out their instruc- 
tions, the officers prepared to return home, and we 
thereupon hailed two cabs, and all drove off together 
to the Gare du Nord. We had walked the little dis- 
tance from tlie hotel to the cab-stand, I still retaining 
my disguise, which had greatly excited the curiosity 
of two .French officials, who narrowly watched our 
group, as they could not understand a working man 
of their own country being on such a familiar foot- 
ing with a rather large party of English gentlemen, 
when presently some one remarked, “I believe we are 
being followed by the mouchards.’^ 

I ought, in all fairness, to mention that, although 
the French authorities refused to extradite, they 
helped us otherwise, be it to their credit, and by the 
time the Mooney occurrence took place, a large num- 
l)er of Parisian detectives greatly assisted us by 
keeping their eyes open, on the look out for suspicious 
characters. 

The two mouchards mentioned, evidently regarded 
us with no little suspicion, and when we got into our 
cabs they got into one also, apparently witli a deter- 
mination not to lose sight of us. 

Whilst in the vehicle, I divested myself of my dis- 
guise, having worn it over my ordinary clothes, took 
off my sabots and cap, replacing them with a pair of 
low ^oes and a soft wideawake, which I had stuffed 
in the voluminous portions of the blouse, tied all the 
things up into a bundle, and left them on the seat for 
the benefit of the drivei’i 


88 


BETECTIVB STORIES. 


When we reached the station, as we had some forty 
minutes to wait for the train, our party divided itself 
up into segments, some seeking refreshments, others 
newspapers, cigarettes, and so on. The two sus- 
picious mouchards alluded to watched our move- 
ments very narrowly and didn’t seem to approve of 
them at all. Presently one of them, a little finical, 
prancing fellow, with a waxed moustache, came up 
to Mr. Littlechild, who is in fact a very big child, 
being over six feet in height, and not at all to be 
despised in width, and said that he and the remainder 
of his party must consider themselves under arrest. 
Mr. Littlechild at first thought it was a joke of some 
kind or other, but seeing the increased determination 
of the miniature official, became annoyed, as he did 
not want to be delayed any longer in Paris than 
necessary, and felt half -inclined, as he said, to take 
the man by the ears and lift him out of the way — but 
he and the others had, nevertheless, to obey the law, 
and, after a tedious delay, being sent from one cabi- 
net to another, and so on, for about five hours, before 
he succeeded in thoroughly convincing the superiors’^ 
of the two who had so pertinaciously watched us, 
that we, upon whom they had wasted so much of 
their valuable time, really were not Fenians as they 
had vainly imagined us to be, and that the, to them,, 
dreadful proceeding of my entering the cab as a 
Frenchman arid coming out elsewhere as an English- 
man was an action perfectly innocent and perfectly 
legitimate under the circumstances. We then re- 
ceived any number of most courteous and pro- 
found apologies, and all the rest of it, which 
no one knows better to wield than a Frenchman, 
and came away. I saw them all off by the toain, 


AMONG THE FENIANS. 


89 


and returned to my duty of watching Stephens, 
which I continued to do for about four months 
longer. My reports upon Ms movements were daily 
becoming less interesting to the home authorities, 
the ‘‘Head Centre’^ having apparently realised that 
he had gone, if not to the extreme length of his 
tether, at least as far as he would be permitted to go, 
and as his party, owing to the vigilance of the 
English Government, rapidly became demoralised, 
although it flickered a little here, spurted a little 
there, but at last, it, for all practical purposes, be-, 
came extinguished, the outrage at the Mansion House 
having undoubtedly signed its death-warrant, I was 
withdrawn from my long vigil, and ordered back to 
London. ' 

It was not, however, possible for Stephens, with 
his flery energy, to remain completely idle, so he 
commenced, to busy and interest himself in French 
political matters, with the result that the powers 
there, in a very short time, seeing the mischief likely 
to accrue from his baneful influence, compelled him, 
at a very short notice indeed, to quit their country 
and leave them in peace. 

The latest I heard of him was that he was in 
Brussels in an anything but enviable position (his 
former friends having deserted him), eking out a 
livelihood as best he could by the aid of his natural 
talents, one of wMch was an eloquent and descriptive 
pen. 

What Mooney and Coleman are doing now I cannot 
possibly tell. But I can and do say this, that if it had 
not been for the crass stupidity of our Government in 
refusing to accommodate the French authorities in 
the affair of the Archbishop of Paris, thereby, for a 


90 


DE TE Cn VB BTOB1B8. 


time, paralysing political extraditionary relations be- 
tween the two countries, both Stephens and Mooney, 
and in every probability Coleman, would have paid in 
full the penalties which their brutal actions so 
thoroughly entitled them to. 

And I feel sure of this, without pretending to 
moralise upon a subject which I may be told I know 
nothing at all about, that when the real history of; 
that ill-starred and ill-fated country, Ireland, comes 
to be written by those capable ones who are above 
the mere pettinesses of political partisanship, by men 
whose calmness, independent judgments, and inter- 
pretations can be relied upon — ^when Hibernia shall 
have attained its peace — a peace which past cen* 
tuiles have denied it — one of the greatest blots upon 
the pages of such a record will be that called. 
Fenianism, and every inhabitant of that warm- 
hearted but restless land, from the poor illiterate 
peasant placidly pulling his potatoes upon the 
Shannon’s bank, up to the most potent of those in 
position and power — each will endeavour, each will 
be anxious, to forget the terrors and desolations of 
former times, and will stretch his hand over the 
terrible stain, hastening to hide it from the gaze of( 
a later, though it is to be lioped, a more just mankind. 


“ON THE EffiE SYSTEM.” 


determined to have him prosecuted at whatever 
cost it may be. What right has he to dispose of 
property which belongs to me ? ’’ 

I don’t think I should,” I remarked. What 
advantage is likely to accrue from it? The young 
fellow apparently had no evil intention when he 
parted with the article. Why, good gracious! you 
have already had twenty-four guineas from him, 
which, although I do not profess to be a judge, I 
should think is treble the value of the twopenny- 
halfpenny musical box which you palmed off on to 
him, poor chap.” 

^^Why” — ^this in a tone of increasing anger — ^‘‘do 
you mean to say” III 

Yes, I do; and if the man is at all sensible he will 
refuse to pay you a single sixpence more, or, indeed, 
take any notice whatsoever of your continued impor- 
tunities beyond that, if you again disturbed his peace 
of mind by putting your swindling person en evidence 
in his house again, he ought to kick you out into the 
street.” 

^^Why, ril report you to your superiors,' you 
insolent” II! 

‘^Yes; do so, by all means. It is just what I want, 
for I think you’ll then get more than you imagine 
you bargained for.” 

This highly-flavoured conversation took place in a 


92 


DETECTIVE STOKIES. 


shop one morning in the year ^84 in one of the well- 
known West End thoroughfares — ^which is almost 
entirely, that is, one side of it, occupied by dealers 
in furniture — ^between a stout, Hebraic, coarse, 
vulgar man, about fifty years of age, sporting a white 
waistcoat and a large quantity of jewellery, and — 
your humble servant. 

This man had for a number of years done a very 
big business, under the name of Johnstone and 
Company, complete house furnishers, on what is 
called the ^^Hire System.’^ He fiourished and made 
money, but a more cunning, rapacious vagabond 
never oiled his smooth black locks than this unworthy 
son of Abraham. He advertised freely in the better 
class papers, and people — silly, unthinking, inex- 
perienced people — ^rose to the bait like famished 
fishes. Probably my readers may themselves re- 
member the advertisements. They were rendered 
something after this fashion: — 

SPECIAL NOTICE ! 

A BOON ALIKE TO THE RICH AND POOR. 

TO THOSE ABOUT TO FURNISH. 

A FIRM of considerable standing, doing a bone-fide 
business, wiU FURNISH THROUGHOUT on the HIRE 
SYSTEM, for Payments arranged to meet the circum- 
stances of clients.' No deposits. No enquiry fees. No 
securities required. Five per cent only added to invoice 
prices. Pianofortes a speciality. No reasonable appli- 
cation refused.— Address, JOHNSTONE & COMPANY, 
Edmonton Palace Road, London, W. 

Why, this seemed just the very thing for every- 
body, and those who knew nothmg at all about the 


**0N THE HIKE SYSTEM. 


93 


matter used to say what a great convenience this 

system’’ mnst he. 

I will try and explain in detail exactly how it 
worked. 

When an application was made to Johnstone and 
Co., a form was sent by them which required filling 
up as follows: — 

1. Name and address. 

2. Occupation. 

3. Amount and class of furniture required. 

4. How to be repaid, whether weekly, monthly, 
or quarterly. 

5. Eeferences. 

Accompanying this proposal” form was a printed 
list of houses from which goods might be selected 
if the proposal was accepted, and which certainly 
contained the names of a few good, houses, but the 
rest were of generally a second-rate and so-so 
character. 

In a few days an official from Johnstone and Co. — 
generally the Hebraic individual himself — called 
upon the applicant and also upon the references. He 
was invariaby civil, and, after making some enquiries, 
said the ‘^firm would write in a few days.’^ 

Presuming that the enquiries were of a satisfactory 
character, a note to the following effect was then 
generally written to the applicant: — 

“ Edmonton Palace Road, W. 

“ Johnstone Co. 

Dear Sir,— In reply to your application for £150 worth 
of furniture, to be supplied to you upon the Hire System, 
extending over a period of three years, and repayable by 
monthly instalments, I am directed to say that we should be 
glad to give you orders upon the firms we transact business 


94 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


with for goods to the amount of £100, this being the ex- 
tent of the credit we are warranted in giving on the 
references supplied. If, however, you could obtain one 
friend to act as siu’ety, and to be jointly and severally 
responsible with you for the payments, we should have no 
objection to let you have goods to the value stated by 
you ; and awaiting your reply. 

We are, dear Sir, faithfully yours, 

EDWARD J. SMITHSON, 
Manager.” 

Thjs seemed straightforward enough, and the appli- 
cant would then generally write and ask for the 
orders for furniture to the extent of £100, rather than 
trouble any of his relations or friends upon a some- 
what delicate transaction of this description, which 
he naturally wanted to be kept as private as possible. 

The orders for selection w^ould then be duly for- 
warded, and Mr. Applicant, accompanied by, pro- 
bably, the future Mrs. Applicant, would, with a light 
heart and conscience, pay visits to the houses upon 
whom the orders were made, and if he was not 
particularly shaj*p (and people who make use of hire 
systems very seldom are sharp) he would not notice 
that the orders had chiefly been ihade upon the 
second-rate houses mentioned in the list, or probably 
upon some not in the list at all. Having selected 
furniture to the nominal amount of £100, he w'ould 
go home delighted with his progress, and wait the 
delivery of the goods, but before these would rea(di 
Hie address he had given, a long printed agreenieiit 
w^ould be brought to him for signature by one of the 
firm^s officials. Tliis matter would look simple and 
straightforward enough at the first reading by the 
official, and would be then perhaps readily signed. 
A written acknowledgment of the agreement would 




be sent, and a first instalment (these are always pay- 
able in advance) would then have to be made. 

In a few days the furniture would arrive, as cheap 
a lot of gimcrack stuff as was ever put together, 
smelling very strongly of bad glue and worse varnish, 
and looking very different indeed to when it was 
located in the firm’s warehouses (no one can mistake 
the ^‘Bire System” furniture if it has once been 
pointed out to them). However, this is an insignifi- 
cant trifle compared with having three years to pay 
it in. We wiU just analj^^e the exact value of £100 
worth nominally according to this wonderful system. 
The hirer is perhaps struck with the fact that he is 
supplied with the invoice direct from the firms who 
have supplied the goods themselves, and not from the 
hire people, and his faith is thus at the outset in- 
creased considerably in the latter by this further evi- 
dence of apparent straightforwardness, but he ought 
not to forget that a duplicate set of invoices have 
been supplied to the hire people from the same firms 
with a discount ot* 83 per cent, taken off (this is an 
absolute fact, for I have an invoice of the kind v hich 
came into my possession some time ago, and have felt 
very much disposed to exiiibit it here word for word 
and figure for figure), thus the hire people in reality 
only pay £66 13s. 4d. for what they charge the now 
deluded hirer £100. On this £100, however, there is 
the 5 per cent, interest as meptioned in the advertise- 
ment; this makes a further sum for three years of 
£15 — ^then as repayments are always in advance and 
the interest is added in the first instance, a furtner 
4 per cent, at simple interest only, although compound 
interest should be calculated, for the use of the re- 
payments, therefore another ^12 is, though generally 


96 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


iinsuspectedlyj put on, making the £66 13s. Id. re- 
liresent at least £127, which, when looked into may 
be pretty clearly seen to be nearly a cent, per cent, 
profit; and this is not by any means all, for the fur- 
niture is not the absolute property of the purchaser 
until the last instalment of this exorbitant and 
abominable charge is paid off. I mean this, suppose 
for instance the unfortunate misguided hirer has paid 
off all but tiie last month’s instalment of £3 10s. of 
his £127, and there is owing to the company that 
amount, but for some unexplainable reason or other 
he caimot manage possibly to meet it when due, there 
is nothing to prevent these land-sharks, for the bulk 
of them are nothing else, coming in and taking pos- 
session of the whole lot; and this, without any notice 
whatsoever, is done regularly. I grant that the 
company can only in reality sell out snflicient of the 
furniture to repay in value the amount of the instal- 
ments in arrears, with costs. But we well know 
what this means, for when prices are realised at 
knock-out auctions, there is, as we are aware of, 
I>rccious little left for the poor beggar who has 
so rashly entered into the clutclies of these 
wn^etches. Morally and strictly speaking the hirer 
is the nominal proprietor of £127 worth of furni- 
ture, for he has had that amount. Legally it is not 
his until every single penny of the outrageous lien is 
cleared off ; and what is more, if the hirer in any Avay 
places that furniture, which is his and yet not his, 
under the embargo of a mortgage or a charge of any 
description whatsoever, he is liable, not merely to a 
civil action for the recovery, but to a criminal pro- 
secution (if these scoundrels, knowng the feeling of 
magistrates generally as to their inglorious pro- 


ON THE HIRE SYSTEM. 


97 


u 

ceediligs and methods of conducting business, dare 
institute one) on the grounds of being a fraudulent 
bailee. Such, roughly and in brief, is an outline of 
the way the ^^Hire System” business is conducted, 
the profits that are made, and the law bearing upon 
the people who carry it on. My earnest advice to 
everybody, particularly to those about to start in life, 
is, have nothing whatever to do with these gentry, 
for however specious their advertisements — ^however 
attractive their terms” — ^you are sure to regret it 
in some way or other if you do. You had far better 
purchase articles one by one as you require them, 
apd enjoy an easy mind, rather than pay double their 
value for having them all at once — giving you an 
intense amount of anxiety until your liability upon 
them is cleared off. 

I am led up to these expressions by the fact that 
I was deputed to assist Johnstone and Company (at 
their own request) to try and discover the where- 
abouts of a pianoforte which one of their customers 
had parted with unknown to the firm, who were going 
to prosecute unless he produced the instrument at 
once, and the conversation heading this story took 
place after my having discovered where it was 
located, and having learned the whole circumstances 
connected with the matter. 

It appears that a young fellow (a clerk in a City 
house), a thoroughly honest, square-dealing man. I 
knew him well personally, as he was employed by a 
firm who had in the earlier stage of my career given 
me some temporary work to do, and I had noted his 
energy and straightforwardness. He had gone there 
as a boy, and in sixteen years found himself the head 


98 


DBTECnVB STORIES, 


clerk of the establishment,' trusted by his masters; 
and respected by everybody who came in contact 
with him. He had saved some little money, and, like 
many other young men, had entered upon matrimony, 
his salary being £150 per annum, and had joggedi 
comfortably along for some eight or nine years, his 
wife having presented him in that period with some 
half-a-dozen children. This turn of things, of course, 
taxed his financial resources to the utmost, but, in 
spite of all difficulties, he kept steadily on, and, being 
frugal, managed to add to his savings. 

He was musically inclined, and one of the dreams 
of his life, and his wife’s, too, was to possess a piano 
as soon as they felt able to afford it. To take out of 
their accumulations perhaps forty to fifty pounds for 
the purchase of one would have reduced their re- 
served funds too much, so that they wisely deter-» 
mined to wait a little longer. That little longer, 
however, seemed to have arrh ed, when the husband 
one day noticed the advertisement of Johnstone and 
Company’s hire-system in one of the daily papers. 
He went at once to the establishment, saw a very 
large stock of pianos marked at various prices, and, 
running his fingers over several of them, he alighted 
upon one iharked thirty-six guineas, and a very neat, 
attractive, well-sounding instrument it appeared. 
He was informed that a guinea per month for three 
years would purchase it; he, therefore, went home in 
high glee and told his wife all about it, and she only 
seemed too pleased with the idea of having a nice 
piano to fill up a vacant corner of their little sitting- 
room at their little house at Pecldiam. John Phillips, 
for that was the man’s name, before he finally de- 
cided upon having it, took his wife to see it, and 


ON THE HIRE SYSTEM.’ 


99 


it 

moreovet got a mnsical friend, who was a teacher at 
a well-known academy, to accompany them, who, 
after critically examining it inside as well as outside, 
looking at and testing the wires, pedals, and so forth, 
pronounced the tone a^nd finish excellent for the 
money. 

Phillips, having previously satisfied Johnstone and 
Company with references, signed the agreement, 
and paid the first instalment. In the course of a 
week — ^the hire-system people explained, as a reason 
for the delay, that the case wanted “touching up” a 
little before it left the warehouse — ^the piano arrived, 
and a rare fiutter it caused among the near neigh- 
bours, who expressed themselves that these Phillipses 
must be doing pretty well, for, although they had 
six children at home, they could manage to get a 
new “pianny.” In fact, the unwashed, gossiping, 
woman who lived opposite, with her dirty arms 
akimbo, went further than this, and told the people 
who kept the little greengrocer’s shop next door, and 
with whom she was on very friendly terms, that she 
felt quite sure it wasn’t paid for, as they made such a 
fuss about it, which was, of course, perfectly true; 
but, then, as John was the decentest fellow who ever 
trod shoe-leather, and his pretty little wife, who 
generally held her dainty little head above every one 
of her neighbours in the whole street, the hardest of 
workers, these facts, and not merely the advent of 
the piano, might, perhaps, have been the true causes 
of the malicious remarks and suggestions. 

After the piano had been in the house a short time, 
John Phillips thought that its tone did not seem 
quite so good as it was at first, and remarked this to 
Johnstone and Company when he paid his next instal- 


100 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


ment, whereupon that firm remarked, ^^That perhaps 
the house or room was a little damp, but they would 
send a man up to see.’’ The man sent tuned it up, 
and for a little time matters seemed improved; a 
second complaint brought the man another time, 
however, who, after apparently thoroughly over- 
hauling it, said, ^^Well, Mr. Phillips, this is. a piano 
which I think you will find will improve with 
keeping, and be none the worse for tuning regularly, 
say, every month, until it got thoroughly seasoned.” 
Time went on, the instalments being paid punctually ; 
but instead of the instrument becoming better, as 
anticipated, it, in fact, became much worse, until at 
last it could easily be classified with hundreds of its 
fellows which are made for show and sale, and not 
for wear and use — ^which it really was. John at last 
guessed as much, but paid his guinea monthly, bit 
his lips, and kept his own opinions to himself. That 
piano proved a curse rather than a blessing before 
it was done with, for, after two dozen payments had 
been made, John Phillips was thrown out of employ- 
ment by a fire which burnt his employers’ premises 
down so thoroughly that the partners considered the 
ruin so complete that they refrained from rebuilding, 
and decided to retire from business altogether. Some 
months from this date passed. All John’s savings 
had been spent, and, beyond this, he had given a 
bill of sale upon the whole of his little collection of 
furniture, excepting, of course, the piano, and things 
looked very black indeed, for work he could not get 
of any description — ^had he been anything but a mere 
honest, hard-working clerk he could have obtained 
scores of appointments — and, to crown all his 
troubles, three of his children sickened and died of 


101 


“ON THE HIRE SYSTEM " 

scarlet fever, which was raging in the neighbourhood. 
Here, then, was the exact summary of affairs — 
savings gone, valuables pawned, bill of sale on furni- 
ture, three children dead, no money, no employment, 
and a still further increase of family threatened. 
The poor fellow was nearly heart-broken, and in the 
hope — oh, Hope, how false and vain you are! — that 
something would surely turn up soon, he obtained, 
from a firm of advertising money-lenders, the sum 
of seven pounds ten shillings on the security of 
Johnstone’s piano, which amount barely met the 
funeral expenses of the three children he had lost, 
let alone the thirtieth instalment, which was due on 
the wretched instrument the first of the following 
month. In vain he tried to get another guinea for 
this purpose out of the money-lenders; in vain he 
asked Johnstone and Company to allow the instal- 
ment to stand over for a while in the hopes of better 
times coming. No, neither of these, one may be 
sure, turned an attentive ear to his pleadings, and, 
within twenty -four hours after the payment became 
due, two men with a cart arrived at the little sorrow- 
stricken home to take away the piano (more than 
half of which was in reality John’s), which had been 
given as security for the money borrowed. John 
was thereupon charged with fraud, and remanded 
(on the application of Johnstone and Company) by 
the magistrate, in order that the whereabouts of the 
piano might be discovered, and I was duly instructed 
to find it, which was not a difficult matter, as Phillips, 
though refusing to give these harsh and cruel 
scoundrels any information upon the subject, as he 
had not really realised the gravity of his offence, at 
once confided to me, told me in whose possession it 


103 


PB T B OT I VE 8TOBIES. 


was, and related, as well as the poor broken-down 
piece of humanity could, the whole of his sad story. 
His last words as he fell (having fainted, for the poor 
fellow had not tasted food for three days) into my 
arms at the police-station, being, ^‘My God! my poor 
wife!’^ 

I am not, by any means, what people term a ^Hhin- 
skinned” individual, as I bade adieu to sentiment years 
ago; in fact, I have seen so much in the criminal line 
as to render me capable of nearly believing anything, 
if it is only bad enough, thus making my moral hide 
almost as tough as a pachyderm; but, I must confess, 
that when I thought of this poor suffering man, with 
his sorrow-stricken wife at home, ill and unable to 
leave her bed, the children crying about the house, 
temporarily deprived of help and entirely without 
food, it was just about as much as I could stand, for 
I had known them all under such different and 
brighter circumstances, and I determined to see what 
really could be done. 

Taking advantage of the remand which had been 
obtained, instead of looking after the piano, as I was 
supposed to do — and this is the only time that I can 
ever fairly be accused with wilful neglect of duty — I 
spent every spare moment of ten days in getting at 
the antecedents and pedigree of Johnstone and Com- 
pany in general, and the Hebraic ^‘gentleman,” who 
seemed to be at the head of affairs, in particular; and 
a pretty large list I obtained of sharp practices and 
doings which they had been guilty of — so much so, 
that on the eleventh day, three days before the fort- 
night’s remand had expired, I called on the astute 
firm, as the opening of my story describes, which, 
with many other remarks, states exactly what took 


ON THE HIRE SYSTEM. 


103 


cc 

place at that interview. I had, in the meantime, en- 
listed the help of a friendly solicitor (Mr. George 
Kebbel) on the prisoner’s behalf. On the morning of 
the fourteenth day, poor Phillips was placed in the 
box, but no prosecutor appeared. Then Mr. Kebbel 
got up in his place, and explained to the magistrate 
that his client ^Giad a complete answer to the charge” 
— solicitors invariably say this, it always looks well 
— whereupon that worthy gentleman peeped over his 
spectacles at the prisoner for a little while, and, evi- 
dently not altogether unfavourably impressed with 
John’s appearance (nobody could possibly be this, for 
he was a frank, open-hearted, good-looking fellow 
enough, although haggard and care-worn just then), 
simply said, You are discharged, sir.” 

Then, if a minute or so later, you had only seen the 
hugging, and the kissing, and the crying, and the 
laughing which took place in the corridor, outside 
the court — ^for Phillip’s devoted little wife had 
managed (and her last baby was then only four days 
old) somehow or other to be present at what she ex- 
pected would be the trial,” having quite made up 
her mind that her husband would at the least be sent 
to Siberia for the rest of his existence — ^you would 
(had you been there to see it) have done just exactly 
what the great, big, burly, brown-whiskered police- 
man, who stood at the door, did — ^for you positively 
could not have helped it — ^you would have wiped 
your moist eyes on your coat sleeves; and, if you had 
happened to have been a policeman, too, have said, 
suddenly straightening yourself up, and somewhat 
startled to find yourself giving vent to your finer 
feelings, ‘^Now, then, pass along tliere !” 

I will now tell you why there was ^‘no case’,’ against 


104 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


Phillips. I discovered, during my investigations, that 
Johnstone and Company, after they had agreed to sell 
the piano to that unlucky hirer, had, before delivering 
the article, deliberately taken out the inside works, 
and substituted another and much inferior set, reduc- 
ing its real value to about ten pounds; and, moreover, 
that this was a practice which they had successfully 
carried on for many years, thereby defrauding a very 
large number of people. I supplied this information 
to Mr. Kebbel, who wrote to them saying that unless 
they agreed to return tlie whole of the instalments, 
together with 5 per cent, for interest on them, fifty 
pounds as damages, and all costs up to the satisfac- 
tory conclusion of matters, he would know precisely 
what line of defence to take. I need hardly say these 
requirements, although they were of a stifiish nature, 
were promptly met; and this explains the non-appear- 
ance of the would-be prosecutors. 

We had not told Phillips anything about this, and T 
shall never forget his look of perfectly blank astonisTi- 
ment when Mr. Kebbel and I called upon him, and 
handed him the fifty pounds, the instalments, and a 
letter of apology from Johnstone & Co. He fairly sobbed 
Avith joy, and his little wife, when she had thoroughly 
satisfied herself (suspicious mortal she had become), 
^^that nothing else was happening,’^ fairly screamed 
with delight. Phillips paid off the bill of sale, got 
back the piano, and found himself with many iiounds 
in hand to commence work afresh — ^w^hicli he was able 
to do very shortly afterwards, for the magistrate, 
having heard from Mr. Kebbel the true facts of the 
case (and this very magistrate is generally credited 
with being ‘^hard,’^ and has all sorts of nasty” 
things said about him by tlie press, who really knpvg 


ON THE HIRE SYSTEM.’ 


105 


u 

nothing at all about him), spoke to some friend of 
his, a paper manufacturer in the country, and John 
was provided with a berth quite as good in every way 
as the one he was compelled to give up, and to this 
day, neither master nor employe have had any cause 
for complaint. And if any of my readers happen 

at any time to be in the neighbourhood of ^ 

no, I won’t say where, for some of you would be sure 
to go simply out of curiosity — ^but, however, if you do 
happen to find yourself there, and it is only about 
forty miles from London, call on Mr. John Phillips 
at the neat white house (he is manager at the mill now), 
taking the first turn on the right after you leave the 
railway station, andifyoufindeither John or his peachy- 
cheeked wife (she’s got all her colour bacli now, and 
yet another baby I am told — was there ever such a 
woman, bless her!) at home, and you mention to them 
that you are a friend of mine. I’ll warrant that you’ll 
get such a welcome that you’ve never had in your 
life before, never! But, if you don’t mention my 
name, and you should happen, incautiously or acci- 
dentally, or any way, to say anything about ^‘hire 
systems,” well, Heaven help you! 

Presuming, however, that you have adopted the 
former, and, I think, the more agreeable plan, and 
you have nothing else in particular to do, stay a few 
hours with them; they will only only be too pleased 
to have you, and probably Phillips wiU persuade you 
to walk over to the neighbouring village about a mile 
and a-half away. When you get there he will take 
you to a Mechanics’ Institute sort of. place, which 
the mill hands use, and up at the end of the room 
you will notice (if you’ve got any eyes at all) on the 
platform, a ratlier battered, something-wrong-witli- 


lOG 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


tlie-sound kind of musical instrument — pi^o, with 
a small plate affixed to it, bearing the words: — 
^‘Presented by John Phillips and his wife to the 

By Jove! I was again nearly telling you 

where. 

« » «> * . * * 

Johnstone and Company still carry on business,’^ 
but they have, I am informed, for some time past, 
ceased dealing in pianos, 


A QUEEE “OUSS.” 


I HAVE had a good many curious cases during the 
course of my detective experiences to deal with; 
all sorts, in fact, varying from pitch and toss to man- 
slaughter, but perhaps the most curious one of all 
that ever came within the range of my observation 
was one which I became engaged in, occurring 
exactly six years ago. 

One midnight in the autumn of 1883, I remember 
the time so well, because I was busy shadowing,” 
in Soho, a well-known burglar, a ticket-of-leave man, 
Avho, owing to his extremely powerful voice, went 
among his pals by the nickname of Thunder,” and 
who had been giving the suburban inhabitants of 
this metropolis very considerable trouble, for he was 
a well-tried expert, a far-seeing, experienced indi- 
vidual, who could handle his jemmy” or floor his 
man with equal facility. He took no heed of the 
risks he ran, and no care of the damage he inflicted 
upon person or upon property. His latest exploit 
had been an extremely successful one, as he had 
experienced very little trouble over it, and had 
managed to secure a good haul of that which burglars 
most appreciate, i.e., jewellery and plate, and had 
contrived to get the whole of it into the melting pot, 
disposing of some of the ‘^swag” when he got ^^wind” 
that his nefarious little game was likely to bring him 
into trouble, for lie had left a lantern behind, which. 


108 


BEtECTIVE STOBIE^. 


not to be explained here, gave a sufficient cine to 
enable the police to get on to his track, and make it 
rather warm for him. He had been dogged to a 
house in the part of London wherein I stood that 
particular autumnal evening, as described above, and 
had been seen, or rather it was thought he had been 
seen — or, at all events, a man clearly answering his 
description had been seen — entering the house which 
I was engaged in critically observing. 

I was just on the eve of being relieved,” having 
had something like six hours’ watch, by my sub- 
stitute, when, happening to turn round, I perceived, 
within a few yards, and coming towards me, an 
object which was peculiarity itself, carrying over 
its shoulder a large bright green carpet bag, such 
as are used by voyageurs for soiled linen. As the 
object came nearer, it resolved itself into a tall, 
gaunt, carroty-haired individual, with eyes looking 
up towards the sky, wearing a long, thin, flapping 
overcoat, a flat, soft, and shabby wide-awake hat, 
shortish trousers, and a dilapidated pair of boots, 
and was apparently about thirty years of age, but 
looked, in reality, owing to its slovenly get-up,” much 
older. The figure’s collar was dirty and frayed; he 
had no necktie; soap he hadn’t seen, I am sure, for 
some time, and I don’t think a friendly razor had 
crossed his chin for at least a month. Hallo, thought 
I, what’s up now? and I made a move as if to reach 
the peculiar piece of humanity, coughing to attract 
his attention, whereupon he lowered his eyes, and, 
catching sight of me, looked nervous, fidgeted a little, 
seemed anxious to avoid me, and finally, to my intense 
surprise, took to his heels as hard as he could. 

It was a long street—you would all know it if I 


A QUEER ‘‘cuss.’ 


109 


told you — and I could see a considerable distance 
down it. As I did not appear to follow, the man 
slackened speed, and got into a walk again. By this 
time, my substitute had arrived; therefore, telling 
him what to do, I jumped into a hansom, pointed the 
stranger out to the driver, and ordered him to follow 
at a walk or a trot, but not to get nearer to the 
suspicious personage than about thirty yards, so that 
I could thoroughly perceive his movements without 
being observed. 

I followed him this way, and, strange to relate, 
every time he saw anyone who appeared to scrutinise 
him pretty closely, he again stalked off as fast as his 
long legs and feet would carry him, until he reached 
a well-known private hotel, whose respectability is 
perfectly above suspicion, and is such that I and 
hundreds of others can vouch for, in Surrey Street, 
off the Strand. He knocked, this was about one 
a.m.; the door opened, and in walked bag, and hat, 
and coat, and everything. 

Well, this puzzled me considerably, and I hardly 
knew what to do under the circumstances. I, how- 
ever, called a policeman, and told him to keep his eyes 
upon the place, and if anyone answering the de- 
scription I gave of the peculiar being left the house 
he must not fail to follow him. It was no use going 
to Scotland Yard, therefore I went to Bow Street, 
and came back accompanied by a ^^help to the hotel. 
There we waited, and watched until about eight 
o’clock, without catching the sight of my suspect, 
or, indeed, anybody else leaving the place; and be- 
yond noting that the front door steps were cleaned 
by a very pretty housemaid, in a very pretty cap, 
and who was a very long time about the job, because 


no 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


of a very animated flirtation with a young man who 
was apparently an assistant in the house next door, 
and who had come out to take down the one shutter 
which had protected the narrow window during the 
night, just, of course, by a strange and peculiar 
coincidence — oh you young people! — with the com- 
mencement of the work of the housemaid. After the 
steps were finished and the flirtation concluded, by 
an exchange of compliments which pleased the house- 
maid, and apparently considerably stimulated the 
young man, who, in his excitement, put the corner of 
the shutter through a pane of glass in the door as he 
was going into the house — after, as I say, these little 
incidental proceedings had taken place, I ventured 
into the hotel and enquired for the landlord, who in 
a few moments came to me, and with a quiet, pleasing 
salute and smile, evidently anticipating the pleasTire 
of receiving a new customer, asked me what it was he 
could do for me. I explained to him who I was, and 
said, ‘^^You have a man in the house, giving the best 
description I could of my ^^flnd,’’ ‘^and I am anxious 
to learn what you know of him? ’’ 

Nothing, said the landlord; ^^he has been here 
about ten days. He brought a large and peculiar- 
looking bag with him, which he seems to have a gi*eat 
affection for, as he will let no one handle it but 
himself. He pays his bill every morning, wlrich is^ 
so strange, merely says that he is not quite sure 
whether he will be back at night or not, shoulder's 
his property, and apparently counting the clouds, 
slowly walks away, returning, as he has done for 
some time past, regularly, about the same hour every 
night, and with the bag, of course. The name he 
is known by here is Mr. Van Deitmar. He says he 


A QUEER “ CUSS.* 


Ill 


came from Amsterdam, but has not been there for 
some time, having travelled, and states that his father, 
many years ago, when he visited London always 
stayed at this hotel, and for that reason alone we 
keep him. He is very quiet, takes no stimulants, and 
never enters into conversation with anybody. Break- 
fast, and that a very frugal one, is the only meal he 
takes in this house. However, he will be down pre- 
sently, and, if you will wait, you can then interview 
him for yourself. 

At nine to the minute Mr. Van Deitmar came down, 
just as dirty, just as untidy, just as dilapidated as he 
looked when I saw him on the night before, candying 
the mysterious bag — ^which he seemed loth to part 
with even for an instant — ^with him into the breakfast- 
room. When he had finished his meal, wich consisted 
simply of a cup of coffee and some bread and butter, 
I, who had been engaged at another table partaking 
also of some food, perceiving that no stranger was 
in the room, took the opportunity of putting some 
questions to him after calling in the landlord and 
my assistant. 

believe your name ils Mr. Van Deitmar,’^ said I. 

Again he looked nervous and fidgeted just as he did 
when I had attracted his attention in Soho. 

Ye-es, what do you want with me? ” I could easily 
detect a foreign accent when he spoke. 

I then plainly but politely told him that I was a 
police officer and not being satisfied with his move- 
ments I should require to know something more 
definite as to who he was and where he lived. 

^^My name, sir, is Mr. Van Deitmar. I live,” said 
he, rather abruptly and emphatically, ^4n the Govert 
Flinckstraat, Amsterdam*^ giving a number which I 


112 


DKIECnTE STORIES. 


remembered well, as I knew the place to be a corner 
house facing the Amsteldyke, in that charming city, 
during a lengthened and exceedingly pleasant stay I 
had there once. It was a house I always admired, 
because it seemed even more quaint than the many 
quaint residences surrounding it. ^^That will do for 
the present,’^ I replied, bowing, and wishing him good 
morning. 

I got the authorities to wire to the Amsterdam 
police, supplying the name given me, together with 
the best description I could give of the man’s appear- 
ance and asking them if they knew anything about 
him. 

In a very short time a reply came back. 

“Keep careful watch; officer will come over 
Wanted for murder.” 

Well, much as I looked for, I didn’t expect this, 
and it was rather a staggerer for me. So for two 
whole days and nights I occupied myself in “shadow- 
ing ” this Mr. Van Deitmar. His habits were simple, 
very; but peculiar exceedingly. He would wander 
aU day about the streets, apparently fully engrosseil 
in himself and his own thoughts, every now and again 
stopping suddenly, to take a good look up at the 
sky as tiiough he had a personal interest in it; then, 
when finding himself noticed, or perhaps accidentally 
pushed by someone passing, he would drop his eyes, 
and “cut ” off with the rapid, jerky, nervous kangaroo 
sort of movement, so peculiar to him. 

He never seemed to rest, being perpetual motion 
itself; walk, walk, walking, all the day over. About 
one o’clock he would make his way to Wardour 
Street, and at an “eatable” shop there purchase a 
smoked sausage, and at the baker’s, a few doors 


A QUEER ‘‘CUSSJ 


113 


furtlier on, secure a roll; then, popping these in the 
tail pockets of his voluminous coat, he would wend 
his way to Hyde Park, and there, in the open air, 
irrespective of the hundreds of people who used to 
eye him with great curiosity, he would, walking all 
the time, devour his frugal meal, pausing between 
the bites to have occasional surveys of the space 
above him. When his repast was finished he would 
trot off to a little dirty, common, cheap restaurant, 
hurriedly drink a cup of coffee, remaining in the place 
but a little while, standing all the time, and carefully 
avoiding as much as possible speaking to or looking 
at anyone. Then he would come out, stand on the 
door-step for a few moments, having another good 
look overhead, and again walk off. 

One other peculiarity this gentleman possessed 
was that, when he stopped for the purpose of making 
his astronomical or whatever other observations they 
were, he always used to put his hands up the opposite 
of each of his roomy sleeves, as though he was trying 
to reach the corresponding elbow, and the effect was 
most comical, giving quite a finish to one of the most 
peculiar ^^appearances’’ I had ever, in all the course 
of my experience at home or abroad, met with. For 
tea, at six o’clock, he repeated the process of the 
morning, omitting the sausage, however, these form- 
ing, with his breakfast, the only meals he partook of 
in the course of twenty -four hours. Then re-com- 
menced his interminable promenade until eleven 
o’clock, at which hour he would present himself at 
the Portland Koad Eailway Station, obtain his be- 
loved green bag from the left luggage office, where 
he had left it in the early portion of the day, and 
hurriedly walk off with it (always via Soho) to his 


114 


DETECnVB STORIES. 


hotel, TVhere, when I heard the door close upon him, 
I used to offer up my inaudible orison of thankfulness 
to the Fates for allowing me the completion of my 
day^s weary tramp. Saw my assistant on guard, and 
went home to get some rest. 

This continued for three davc;. my suspect himself 
having had almost a ff*rtnight of it, and looking, so to 
speak, as though he had not^‘ turned a single hair,’^ 
and “going well’’ right through, whilst I began to 
feel that if something did not turn up pretty quickly 
I should be just about pumped out and put on the 
sick list. 

A couple of dozen miles or so over the hot, hard 
pavements of London streets, without any break or 
rest worth mentioning, was as near as anything ap- 
proaching hard work that I had ever tried in my life, 
and 1 don’t feel disposed to undertake such a task 
again, that is if I can possibly help it. 

On the early morning of tlie fourth day I breathed 
freely when Inspector Bogaerts from Amsterdam 
made his appearance, and this gentleman and In- 
spector Boots and myself paid a visit to Surrey 
Street about the time we expected to find our strange 
friend breakfasting. He was there, and so was the 
green bag, but the moment Bogaerts saw him he said 
to me, “"Why, this is not the man. Van Deitmar, the 
Van Deitmar we want, and we all know him well, is 
a short, stout young fellow. Oh, no. I cannot arrest 
this person.” 

Well, this was a shock, and no mistake; here I ha(l 
been “following” this individual for the last four 
days, walking my legs off, half -starved and all the 
rest of it, expending my time, money, energies and 
strength on a man who wasn’t after all the man re- 


A QUEER “cuss.* 


115 


quired; I felt so “sold’^ and so riled, that if I had not 
been so fagged and so completely worn out, I do 
really believe that I could have, for I felt it, taken 
our Mr. Van Deitmar by the scruff of his neck and 
have kicked him and his green bag over the embank-i 
ment at the bottom of the street into the river ; but all 
I could do was to look at Eoots, who looked at 
Bogaerts, who in return smiled at Eoots, who then 
smiled at me, and we all smiled together somehow, 
two of us sadly. The waiter, who was standing by, 
at once grasping the situation, burst into a loud 
guffaw, but was promptly silenced by my assistant 
with a smart kick. We then all proceeded in silence 
into another room, and sinking down into chairs, 
unanimously ejaculated “ The devil ! This was not 
exactly the word we used, but it will do quite well 
enough for the purpose of precisely expressing what 
we felt. 

After some few remarks had passed wherein I 
entertained the Dutch Inspector with a brief outline 
of our ^^man’s’^ doings, we agreed to try and find out 
at all events who the peculiar individual really was. 
So approaching him once more, I said, “We are i)olice 
officers; we have been watching your movements for 
some time past and are not at all satisfied with them, 
and would like you to favour us with an explanation, 
particularly as your name appears not to be Van 
Deitmar.” At this he started and said, as though 
dazed, “Eh, what — police — ^Van Deitmar — ^not satis- 
fied — why, what do you mean? ” 

“Precisely what I said,” remarked I, “and we want 
a full and true account of who you are, and where 
you came from.” 

“Oh,” he said, “my name is Van der Linden,” a 

H 2 


116 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


name wMch Bogaerts knew at once as that of some 
good and well-known people in Holland. really 
came from Amsterdam, but that is many years ago.’^ 

“Well,^^ said I, ^^would you oblige us by coming to 
Scotland Yard with your bag?’’ I was determined 
to have a look at the contents of that article somehow 
or other, if I had been hanged and quartered for it. 

Certainly,” said he, though rather uneasily. 

We got into a four-wheeler and drove off to the 
^^Yard,” where a full description of the man and a 
note of the two names and addresses he had given 
were taken. He was then politely asked if he had 
any objection to open the bag and exhibit what it 
contained? ^‘Oh, no,” he replied, proceeding at once 
to do so. 

I shall never forget the looks of surprise and 
amusement which expressed themselves on the faces 
of all the assembled officials when the bag was 
opened and the things began to be handed out. First 
came to the surface a night-shirt, the period of its 
last washing evidently dating some considerable 
time back, then two day shirts, equally unfamiliar 
with the use of soap, a Dutch newspaper, and two 
old copies of the ^^Pall Mall Gazette”; these were 
followed by a pair of very much worn carpet slippers, 
and ditto a pair of boots with the mud all dried on, 
some more newspapers, three or four dirty collars, 
and a portion of a figured silk scarf; below these 
again were found an uncut but stale loaf, flanked by 
a handless hair-brush, not so clean as it might have 
been and short of the bulk of its bristles. Another 
dive into the bag brought up a huge slab of yellow 
Dutch cheese, ornamented by a dressing comb, minus 
a good many of its teeth, imbedded in it, and two odd 


A QUEER “OUSSJ 


117 


socks. X final exploration yielded pieces of string, 
buttons, writing paper, and envelopes, and a host 
of other things lying about loosely; and at the 
bottom of all, roughly folded up and tied with a 
well-worn bootlace, a roll of foreign bonds, payable 
to self, and representing in value about £9,500; these 
were at once seized (I began to think* after all I had 
got something for my trouble, if it wasn’t murder it 
would at least be robbery, the other rubbish being 
replaced in the bag), sealed, and handed over to the 
care of one of the officials, who informed Mr. Van 
der Linden, or whatever his name really was, that 
they would be retained by the authorities until a 
satisfactory account could be obtained respecting 
his possession of them, whereupon that gentleman 
merely stared vacantly, shouldered his bag, and, 
after having a good look at the sky, to see how it 
might appear from that neighbourhood, quietly but 
quickly walked away, followed immediately by an 
assistant whom I had told off to watch and report 
upon his further movements. 

" Bogaerts returned to Holland, and in about a 
week’s time a communication was received from him 
in which he stated that he had, after very consider- 
able trouble, got at the pedigree” of this particular 
and distinguished member of the Van der Linden 
family, and mentioning that his investigations had 
satisfied him that the man had, some half-dozen 
years previously, deserted the Dutch Army (having 
entered as a private, although possessed of consider- 
able means), and since that time his friends had 
searched in vain ‘‘far and wide” to try and learn his 
whereabouts. He had been heard of, they said, in 
all sorts of odd places in all sorts of odd corners, 


118 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


which was the fact, as he had visited nearly all the 
important cities in the world, and two years pre- 
viously his father had died, leaving him some twenty 
thousand pounds, which remained unclaimed. He 
could hear nothing against him except his eccen- 
tricity, and his going about under an assumed name 
was only further evidence of it. 

The bonds were accordingly returned to our hero, 
regret expressed that he should have been troubled 
so much, and the information conveyed to him that 
his father had recently deceased — ^this affected him 
very much — and that he was entitled to a consider- 
able sum of money — ^which didn’t affect him at all — 
and he was left at the hotel undisturbed, every 
explanation being given to the landlord, who was 
highly amused at his strange guest. 

A few days afterwards a strangely-worded letter 
was received at Scotland ’Yard addressed to Inspector 
Eoots and myself. Enclosed in it was a five-pound 
note, which the donor forwarded, with his compli- 
ments' to us and our families, hoping that w^e \vould 
accept tliis little gift as a token of his appreciation 
of our courtesy, &c. • 

We duly reported (according to the regulations) 
the “gratuity” we had received, which was disallowed 
us by the authorities, on the ground that, not having 
done anything (this expression meaning not having 
made an arrest), we should not be permitted to retain 
it, but were to return it to the giver. 

“Well, Fm said I. “So am I,” responded 

Eoots, as we w^alked out of the office together. 

I shouldn’t have cared a single “hang” for the dis- 
appointments I had had. First, finding that Van 
der Linden was not a murderer after all ; second, that 


A QUEER ‘‘cuss.’ 


119 


the bonds were his own, and that he hadn’t stolen 
them; third, that the paltry gratuity had to be 
returned — ^none of these, irritating as they were, would 
have troubled me much, although I sported a sore 
heel for some time after, had it not been that my 
substitute, whom, it will be remembered, I placed 
on duty in Soho, neglected his work and let 
“Thunder” entirely slip through his fingers. 

Verily, it was a chapter of accidents. 

I saw nothing more of the eccentric Van der Linden, 
who, I concluded, was a little wrong in his head, 
until about a month ago, when walking down the 
Strand, I espied him on the opposite side of the road, 
at the corner of Wellington Street (liis hands as 
usual pushed up his sleeves), and wearing exactly 
the same clothes, which, when I crossed over to look 
at them more narrowly, I noticed had become quite 
green with age. He looked just as dirty, and just 
as peculiar, but more haggard and much thinner, 
and was scrutinising the clouds (was there ever such 
a sky gazer?) in the old ways of half-a-dozen years 
ago. I touched him on the shoulder, when his eyes 
met mine, upon which he turned quickly and shuttled 
away; but not without my being able to notice that 
the slight palsied gait he exhibited betokened the 
development of softening of the bra^ 

He was a queer cuss» 


IN THE OAEPATHIAN MOUNTAINS. 


A HUNGARIAN ROMANCE. 

Eeader, have you ever visited, perhaps, some of the 
loveliest places on the face of the whole of fair 
Europe, and by these I mean the numerous and alto- 
gether charming villages situated in the Eastern 
Carpatliian Mountains? If you have not — and it is 
quite possible that you haven’t, as they are very 
seldom resorted to by the average globe-trotting 
Englishman (I am taking the liberty of including you 
in this class, hot knowing you personally, and not 
having any evidence at hand to the contrary) who, 
somehow or other, in the rush for giddier and more 
exciting pleasures, seems entirely to overlook the 
many indescribable pieces of scenery to be found in 
the healthful and invigorating climate afforded by 
that formidable chain of beautiful mountains resting, 
as it Avere, on the immediate confines of Hungary, 
and forming at one and at the same time a natural 
barrier or protection and a panorama of the most 
exquisite picturesqueness — ^then you should go. 

If you have, I need hardly go further in my humble 
endeavour to portray that much neglected part of the 
world; for your own remembrance of it, its scenery, 
its primitive people, the fragrance of its pines and 
the beauties of its beeches will do far more to re- 
picture it upon your memory than if I filled scores 
and scores of pages in an attempt, unsuccessful at 


IN THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS. 


121 


the best, to remind you of Something you can never 
possibly forget, or which, if you do, you ought to 
feel ashamed of yourself. 

Probably your visit there has been one of pure 
pleasure, unalloyed with business cares of any de- 
scription whatsoever; if so, you are to be doubly con- 
gratulated, for I know of nothing more enjoyable, 
nothing more fascinating, than to be permitted to 
luxuriate in those regions, perfectly untrammelled 
by the requirements of society,’^ and perfectly free 
from all ties — ^wondering what on earth the poor 
benighted beings you have left behind in smoking, 
steaming London can possibly mean by trudging off 
to still more smoking and steaming seaside and other 
so-called ^‘resorts,’’ in what they call, poor mortals, 
in their blindness, their holidays, spending double 
the money and quite as much time in their feeble 
efforts to restore their enervated selves, when in 
three days and for as many sovereigns they can reach 
a country and a district equalled for its grandeur 
and its ozone nowhere. 

It was my good fortune a few years ago to spend 
no less than six weeks in that delightful part of* the 
globe, and what added greatly to the intensity of the 
charm, at somebody else’s expense. Had I seen or 
experienced nothing but the quaintest of the quaint 
little villages possible with some of the most interest- 
ing people imaginable — ^had I done this and nothing 
more, I should have been fully rewarded for my 
trouble and have returned home contented. As it 
was, however, I not only was transported with my 
visit, but I was elated with the success of my under- 
taking, and only regret that the relation of my ex- 
periences there must be curtailed to a hum-drum de- 


122 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


scription of the doings of a certain gentleman, whom 
I will at once proceed to introduce to you. 

His name was Karl Waitzen, and in 1878 he came 
over to London for the purpose of obtaining employ- 
ment as a trimmer in the fur trade, and he, being 
a skilful and industrious workman, commanded, as a 
journeyman good wages. He was a typical Hungarian 
— ^yellowish brown skin, medium height, high cheek 
bones, square-shoulders, and provided with that 
hirsute ornament so characteristic of his countrymen, 
a pair of moustachios, each of which was curled at the 
ends like the capital letter y. He was about thirty- 
live years of age, frugal, and what might be termed 
long-headed, and, by his perseverence and attention, 
^vas soon raised by his employers, a well-known hrm 
in Cheapside, to the position of foreman of the ware- 
house and factory. This rapid promotion, one may 
be sure, was not reached without some expressions 
of discontent and envy on the part of his shopmates, 
one in particular of w^hom held him in special dislike. 
I jnerely mention this incident because the dissatisfied 
workman was of considerable service to me. Waitzen’s 
judgment on anything connected with furs was con- 
sidered by those w^hom he came in contact with to 
be about the best in the trade, and for this reason his 
employers often consulted him in, or entrusted him 
with, the ‘^buying.’’ This brought him in contact 
with ^‘representatives ’’ of other firms, who persuaded 
him at last to start upon his own account, and, having 
saved some money and built up a reputation, which 
procured him no end of business credit, he did well, 
and for a time was exceedingly prosperous; his suc- 
cess, however, in spite of his long-headedness, begat 
extravagance, which begat inattention, which begat 


IN THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS. 


123 


all sorts of things, as it Invariably does, and matters 
Avent completely to the bad; but in some way or 
other a mysterious, and for him a providential lire, 
bccuiTed upon his premises. Of course, they were fully 
insured, and this enabled him to pull himself together 
and start afresh in a neAV place. The development of 
his luxurious habits, however, had unfitted him for 
solid work, and the result w^ that but for the assist- 
ance of a second mysterious and providential tire (of 
course the premises Avere again fully insured) he 
would have had some difficulty in being able to keep 
going. A third time he started, on this occasion in a 
fresh locality, but within eighteen months — as 
another fire might perhaps have caused a fcAV tiresome 
and impertinent enquiries to be made, for the patience 
of even the most long-suffering of our insurance offices 
does become a little taxed Avhen the same individual 
has at almost equal dates three consecutive conflagra- 
tions — ^he A^aried the way of relieving the distress 
occasioned by his financial difficulties, by placing his 
affairs and his accounts in the hands of the tender 
mercies of the High Court of Bankruptcy, with 
liabilities very considerable and assets absolutely 
nil, the latter a great mistake for an astute individual 
of his‘ kind to make. 

He attended the first meeting of creditors, but, 
as some of the questions put to him by A'arious 
sufferers, bearing reference to the fires, were con- 
sidered by him to be rather of a searching, though he 
indignantly called them impudent, character; and one 
creditor, a large one — ^nasty people these creditors 
sometimes, big ones particularly— having ventured to 
express himself of tlie unkind opinion that he firmly 
believed that the whole affair was a “rig,'^ empha- 


124 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


sising this belief by proposing that all the accounts 
should at once be placed under a committee for the 
purpose of making a thorough inspection of tiio books, 
and a report thereon, &c., the meeting was adjourned 
for that purpose. No doubt under the impression 
that the committee were quite comi>etent to make all 
the necessary enquiries, and to learn the exact position 
of affairs without his assistance, Waitzen did not 
turn up at the next gathering; indeed, he made him- 
self scarce by putting as much distance as he possibly 
could between himself and the gentlemen who had 
so kindly offered to undertake the duties of generally 
looking into things. 

With that persistency which so much distinguishes 
business Englishmen, the committee discovered that 
Waitzen had managed to quietly put away some- 
where during the month preceding the receiving 
order being granted, the sum of about £2,000, and 
the creditors, not unnaturally, felt inclined to recover 
it, if possible. They even went so for as to say that 
they Avould cover the cost of any necessary legal 
proceedings to the extent' of £50; and, by-and-by, the 
solicitor appointed by the committee applied to the 
Treasury, and succeeded in obtaining a warrant for 
the arrest of the defaulting debtor on a charge of 
fraudulent banliruptcy. In due time this instrument 
was placed in my hands for execution. 

Some time had, of course, elapsed between 
Waitzen’s departure and when I set out to track him 
down, therefore he had the advantage of a very good 
start — some weeks, if I mistake not. I managed, 
however, to find out the warehouse he had been first 
engaged at; and, then, after some little trouble, dis- 
covered the particular workman who had the ^^spite’^ 


IN THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS. 


125 


against him. From this man I learned that 
Waitzen was in the habit of receiving, pretty regu- 
larly, letters from Hungary, and my informer, with 
a curiosity not uncommon among men of his stamp, 
had noticed the post-marks, which were invariably 
dated from Szegada, which is one of the little villages 
snugly resting in the centre of the chain of mountains 
which I mentioned in the opening of the story. A 
very strange feature in the case was the fact that 
not a soul could I get hold of who could tell me the 
whereabouts of Waitzen^s lodgings — ^he was a single 
man — ^which occasioned me a great loss of time in 
a fruitless endeavour to find them. 

To communicate with the police authorities at 
Szegada was, of course, a simple matter, but it ^ 
produced a report from them to the effect that 
Waitzen was known in the neighbourhood — ^in fact, 
had been there quite recently, and his mother, who 
was a widow, had some months before his arrival 
been the recipient of a number of registered letters 
from England. I therefore started for Hungary, and 
in four days arrived at the tiny village of Szegada, 
the home of the mother, armed with my warrant. 

I obtained the assistance of the local officials, the 
magistrate — a very amusing, jolly, decent sort of old 
man, who made me stay at his house during the time 
I remained in the district — and the police. The 
police force there consists of one man only, who 
seemed to fill almost every post of importance neces- 
sary for the welfare of the community. He was 
policeman, coroner^s officer, court crier, village clerk, 
and a whole host of other things too numerous to 
mention. He came nearer to the prototype of Pooh- 
Bah” than any individual I ever met. His uniform 








126 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


was quite as sfflKing and as varied a^ his official 
position. He had on a military cap, and a blue tunic 
very much worn and faded, finishing up with a pair 
of tweed trousers of a striking pattern, such as 50s. 
tweed tourist suits are sometimes made sf. He was 
altogether a unique “character,’^ the magistrate, of 
course, being quite of secondary importance in any 
matter wherein this ubiquitous individual was 
engaged. 

With the joint aid of these two I at length manageci 
to learn that Waitzen had gone to Buda Pesth. I 
immediately went there, but returned to Szegada 
without having found him, as he had evidently 
gathered that he was being anxiously looked for, 
and was cautiously keeping out of reach. 

When the magistrate and his officer learned that I 
had not been successful, they adopted a plan which 
to me was both original and amusing. They im- 
mediately arrested Waitzen’s mother and brother-in- 
law, on the grounds that they had both received 
registered letters from him when he was in England, 
and until they explained what they contained, they 
would be confined in prison. This had a beneficial 
effect, not, however, in the way anticipated, by com- 
pelling the two to confess everything, but in bring- 
ing Waitzen on the scene again, who, not having 
heard for at least a fortnight (of course, owing to 
their confinement in jail), from his mother and his 
brother-in-law, thought that something must be the 
matter, visited the village, and was thereupon easily 
arrested. Then I found myself in a rather awkward 
position. I could not extradite my prisoner for the 
reason that the extradition laws do not apply when 
a wrong doer reaches his own soil. Had I managed to 


IN THE CARPATHIAN MOUNTAINS. 


127 


secure Waitzen anywhere but in Hungary, I could 
have had him extradited; being in his own country 
the law in this respect was powerless to assist me. 

However, we got out of this difficulty by, at the 
judge^s suggestion, sending over for the accountanti, 
who had gone into Waitzen^s affairs with the com- 
mittee, and the books. This gave me the opportunity 
of proving the charge against him in Szegada, which 
was quite sufficient to serve the ends of justice ac- 
cording to the authorities there. 

I was very much astounded at the extremely 
promi)t manner in which the magistrate dealt with 
the case. The three prisoners were put into the dock, 
and, without calling upon a single witness for either 
side, having satisfied (himself by a look into the 
books) he pronounced a sentence of two years’ im- 
prisonment, upon Waitzen, and fined the relatives 
heavily, on the ground of their being conspirators 
with the intent to defeat justice. I secured £1,'700, 
moneys found in the possession of the mother and 
brother-in-law, and bidding the magistrate good-bye, 
and thanking him for the very pleasant time I had 
expierienced, within two months from the time of 
starting I was back in London, to the huge delight 
of the creditors, who were not a little surprised to 
recover the large amount, and who very kindly voted 
me a douceur of thirty pounds. 


A “LONG FIEM.” 


Up a rickety set of stairs, tlirougli a doorway exactly 
opposite an open cellar, wherein tile business of a 
wine merchant, where, I believe, as good a bottle of 
rich old tawny port could have been got as anywhere 
in London, was, and is, I believe, still carried on — up 
these stairs, and right at the top of the building, an 
attic, in fact, there might have been seen (Crown 
Court, Threadneedle Street, City, I am meaning) 
painted up on the door-check, ^^The Central Com- 
mei'cial and Consolidated Banking Company.” This 
was many years ago; of course, there is no trnce 
whatsoever now of the existence of such an institu- 
tion, the agent of the landlord of the premises having, 
to his credit be it said, when he discovered the said 
designation, promptly painted it out, with the 
remark, that “he didn’t think that this concern were 
a genuine one,” and he was quite right. 

The room had been taken, and a quarter’s rent, £6, 
paid in advance, by a sharp, business sort of man of 
about thirty-five, who gave his name as Whitestone; 
he furnished it with, all told, about thirty-eight 
shillings’-wortH of furniture, and merely used it for 
the purpose of receiving and answering what seemed 
to be a fairly large correspondence, visiting the place 
some three or four times a week. 

In the High Street, Borough, in pretty much the 
same class of oflice, similarly situated and similarly 
furnished, and similarly made use of, might have 


A “long firm.’ 


129 


been noted Baird and Co., commission agents, where 
another man — only much older, about sixty — ^trans- 
acted also the business of receiving and replying to 
letters. 

At Clifford's Inn, in the Strand, a third office 
bearing the name of Rogers, Dawson, and Smith, 
financiers, also might have been observed; this was 
under the management or supervision of a smart, 
spruce, dapper, horsey young man, who affected 
sporting slang, and fancied he knew, and he really 
did, a thing or two. 

In Charterhouse Street, close to Smithfield Market, 
a respectable-looking, well-equipped office, containing 
several clerks, who were generally kept pretty busy, 
running messages, despatching circulars, and so. 
forth, blossomed “Davis and Arnold, imoduce 
brokers, and at Lisbon and New York.^’ This was 
under the charge of a well-dressed, portly, middle- 
aged, and loquacious gentleman, whose clean-shaven 
face and irreproachable voluminous white necktie 
quite inspired those with whom he came in contact 
on matters of business or otherwise. 

Last, but not by any means the least in importance, 
was a large well-stocked provision and general sort 
of stores in the busiest part of tliat busiest of 
thoroughfares. Stoke Newington, under the title of 
Gare, Son, and Co., and a very extensive (cash) 
business they did, the establishment being thronged 
from opening to closing time. This establishment 
was in charge of a mild-mannered, sandy-bearded 
young man of some push and energy, and his wife, 
to wliom he had only recently been married. The 
bargains that were offered to the public at this place 
were positively astounding; provisions generally were 


130 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


sold at an almost unheard of and absurdly low price, 
and bacon and eggs in particular were iharked at 
prices that temporarily paralysed the opposition 
dealers, and, had they been cognisant of them, would 
have put Whiteley^s, Shoolbred^s, and various others 
completely to the blush. 

‘^Dang it all,” said the nearest opponent, tightening 
his apron, and freely digging his knife into the 
cutting board, see them going on sellin’ their 
prime Wiltshire at three’a’pence a pound less than 
I can buy the live pigs at. No two people can stand 
that long, I know;” and he was correct, for in due 
time, a very short one, too, came the ‘^bust.” Then 
up went the shutters, to the intense delight of the 
local ti'adesmen; and then everybody learned, for the 
first time, that the Central Commercial and Con- 
solidated Banking Company, of Crown Court ; Messrs. 
Baird and Company, of High Street, Borough; 
Rogers, Dawson, and Smith, of Clifford's Inn; Davis 
and Arnold, of Charterhouse Street; and Gare, Son, 
and Company, of the premises just described, were 
all in some way or other connected; and, to put it 
mildly, were about as compact and clever a set of 
plundering rascals as ever worked, or tried to work, 
their little games in this metropolis. 

Their modus operaiidi was thoroughly well thought 
out, and they certainly deserved considerable credit 
for the ingenuity they had displayed in their 
calculations. 

Commencing with only about £200 capital, the 
bulk of it being provided by the smooth-faced gentle- 
man at the Charterhouse Street office, after they had 
established their numerous branches, they carried 
out as elaborate and deliberate a scheme of fraud as 


A “long pirmJ 


131 


was ever perpetrated, on pretty, much the following 
lines : — 

Messrs. Davis and Arnold would send from time to 
time to a lar^ number of respectable provincial and 
foreign merchants and manufacturers (they care- 
fully avoided London) requesting samples and prices 
of goods of nearly every description for their cus- 
tomers, which, of course, were promptly sent and 
quoted. After a few days, perhaps, haggling about 
prices, so as not to give rise to suspicion by undue 
haste, they would despatch orders, asking that the 
goods might be delivered at certain wharves, stations, 
or in some cases, if the articles were suitable, at the 
Stoke Newington depot, where they were easily dis- 
posed of on account of their low price. Sometimes 
cash in London was asked for, and if the amount was 
not too large, say not over £20 or £30, a cheque 
would be forwarded, which of course was duly^ 
honoured, and thus confidence created, at other times 
references w^ould be required. Well, then they 
always had at least three ready and willing to vouch 
for their respectability, uprightness, integrity, and 
so forth. These generally were given by Kogers, 
Dawson, and Smith, Baird and Company, and the 
Central, Etcetera, Banking Company. The poor pro- 
vincial and foreign Simple Simons of manufacturers 
and merchants, instead of fioating independent en- 
quiries, were invariably eager to despatch their goods 
when such a firm were so favourably vouched for. 
The stationery used by these rogues was generally 
of a first-rate quality, the addresses were fairly good 
ones, the letters business-like, and the note-paper 
was always headed with the names of their bankers 
in Crown Court. Well, what more could be expected, 

i2 


132 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


particularly when Lisbon and New York also had so 
conspicuous place in their circulars, lists, &c. If 
the order was an unusually large one a ^^bilP’ at a 
short date, drawn by the Charterhouse people and 
accepted by the convenient ^^bank,’’ generally gave 
satisfaction to the victims, who, perhaps, congratu- 
lated themselves upon having done a good stroke of 
business. 

In this way, in something short of twelve months, 
this gang managed to get hold of and dispose of] 
nearly £18,000 worth of goods of all possible de- 
ascriptions, embracing everything from pickaxes to 
pianos, which were either immediately pawned or 
at once disposed of by auction, or otherwise promptly 
realised; but provisions were their forte, as they 
were easily obtained, chiefly from abroad, and of 
course, as easily disposed of, considering they were 
being retailed at their Stoke Newington house at 
about forty per cent, less first cost than anybody else 
could possibly purchase them. 

An enterprising Dutchman, living at Edam, was 
the first to make a move, as he had sent over to the 
firm some six tons of his native cheese, receiving in 
payment two bills duly accepted by the “bank’^ and 
of course utterly worthless. He felt very sore about 
this and paid a visit to London in person, in order 
that he might see what was going on among his new 
customers. He discovered nothing but closed 
offices and staring sign plates at the two addresses 
in Charterhouse Street and Crown Court, so, quietly 
putting his hands in his capacious pockets, he puffed 
sententiously at the large, cheap cigar he was smok- 
ing, and remarked, in his own peculiar phlegmatic 
manner, ‘‘dam rogues.’^ He then paid a visit to 


A “long firm.’ 


133 


Scotland Yard, and so'ight the assistance of the 
authorities there, which, of course, was readily 
granted. 

After some considerable skirmishing about London 
and the provinces, I managed to secure no less than 
three members of this precious firm, and duly had 
them lodged in gaol under a remand. They were the 
horsey young man from Clifford Inn, whom I 
arrested, much to his disgust, at a local steeplechase 
meeting in Buckinghamshire; the “Banker,” whom 
I picked up at the Alhambra one night quite unex- 
pectedly, and the High Street, Borough, gentleman 
I got hold of by waiting and watching for him outside 
his own oflS.ce. He was rather slow in his movements, 
and, Scotchman-like, went back to the place a few 
days after his departure for some little article or 
other he had left behind him in his hurry to get away. 
His extreme “carefulness” thus, led him into my 
hands. The portly, saponaceous individual got away 
to a village in Cambridge, and remained there undis- 
turbed for some three months or so, when I managed 
to get wind of him, he having just started in the 
place “The Guardian Building and Provident 
Society,” on entirely new principles (his own, I sup- 
pose), and which promised great success (for him), 
the idea being taken up heartily by the local people. 
He was intensely indignant when I presented my 
warrant, and insisted on his leaving at once the 
board meeting, which was being held at the chief 
hotel in the place, and accompanying me to London, 
and in a very copious flow of language threatened to 
have all sorts of things done to me for my unheard-of 
and unwarrantable intrusion, and so forth. How- 
ever, he had to come, much (as I explained) that J 


134 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


regretted having to disturb the apparent harmony of 
the proceedings. 

The young, sandy -bearded man, representing Gare, 
Sons, and Co., had not attempted to run away, tliink- 
ing he had a good answer to the charge, so that no 
difficulty occurred in getting hold of him. 

In due time they were all charged and remanded, 
bail being refused, wit lithe exception of Gare, Sons, 
and Company’s young man, who was allowed out 
under a surety of £500, which, however, he estreated 
by cutting off to America, where, although we knew 
his address, we had no power of extradition for cases 
of this description, leaving his wife still at Stoke 
Newington. The quartette were sentenced to terms 
of imprisonment varying from eighteen months for 
the horsey man to five years for the smooth-faced, 
elderly individual whom I secured in Cambridge, and 
who had a pedigree of sufficiently criminal character 
to strike envy into the heart of the most hardened 
reprobate. He had been a local preacher in his time, 
and owing to his suavity and ’cuteness had managed, 
with the exception of a trifling sentence of three 
months or so, to keep out of the reach of the police. 

Thus the country was relieved of the presence, for 
a time^, at all events, of a set of scamps, who 
thoroughly deserved all they got, if not more. 

But my story does not end yet, for some few weeks 
afterwards I received a communication from Dart- 
moor Prison, whence my portly friend had been 
removed, stating that if I would pay him a visit he 
could give me information which would lead up to 
the arrest of the individual whose recognisances had 
been estreated; so, after obtaining the usual per- 
mission of the Yard authorities, the Home Office 


A "long firm.* 


135 


granted me the usual permit to visit him. I went to 
Dartmoor, where I found him looking not a bit the 
worse for his incarceration, just as oily and just as 
smooth as of old, making due allowance of course 
for the alteration in his appearance caused by the 
prison’s scant toilet arrangements, and peculiar 
characteristic clothing. 

"Well, No. 24,68812/^ said I, "what do you want 
with me?” 

"Oh!” he said, "I can get Gare back to England 
if you will only let me have pen and ink and some 
plain note paper.” 

These were at orice secured, and he wrote a letter, 
the contents of which were as follows: — 

"My dear Gare, 

"You will be glad to learn that I am free, the 
police not having been able to rake up sufficient 
evidence to secure my committal. Now, as there is 
a large quantity of iJie ‘swag’ left untouched, and, 
lying to my order at Liverpool Street Station, I think 
we might with advantage realise it, then clear ont 
and set up ‘business’ somewhere in the States. 

"Believe ine, 

"Yours ever, 

"J. Davis.” 

The address was given at a stationer’s shop close to 
Regent Street. 

The bait took and the unsuspecting Gare came over 
at once and walked into the trap set for him. I 
arrested him, and he underwent his sentence like the 
rest. 

Davis’s object in " peaching ” upon his pals was, 
no doubt, with a view of getting his own sentence 
lightened, a plan usually adopted by scamps of this 


136 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


kind who stick at nothing if they think their own 
purpose can be served. However, in this particular 
case, I am glad to say, the flome Office turned a deaf 
ear to his request when he detailed the services he 
had rendered by assisting to bring Gare to justice, 
because the man had such an unpleasant history, 
having been concerned in so many frauds, that the 
authorities considered that his punishment as it was 
barely met the retribution demanded by his misdeeds. 

Men like these are perfectly incorrigible; a few 
years’ imprisonment makes very little difference to 
them, and it would not surprise me in the least to 
find the “firm,” either here in this country, or abroad 
somewhere, again carrying on their little games. 


“CHEQUE-MATED.” 


There is one matter, the importance of wKichJ to 
my mind, cannot possibly be over-estimated, affecting 
very greatly the financial well-being and morality 
of the whole commercial world, and which requires 
prompt and vigorous attention at the hands of our 
legislators, and that is the law — or, rather, want of 
law — ^regulating payments by cheque. In a word, 
I mean this— that, as matters now stand, there is 
every inducement offered to swindlers and wrong- 
doers to take advantage of unthinking or too trustful 
people, by palming off for their acceptance phantom” 
or worthless cheques. 

I may be met with the suggestion that cheques are, 
in reality, notes of promise, and that any interference 
on behalf of the authorities in the way that I would 
wish and suggest would prove hurtful to business 
and commerce generally. 

I anticipate this by saying that, by usage, or 
custom, or whatever we may be pleased to term it, 
a cheque has become recognised, or ought to become 
recognised, as an order for payment, and not as a 
note promising payment at some time or other. 

The former is just as simple as if a man wrote a 
note authorising his wife to pay to the bearer so 


138 


DETECnTB STORIES. 


many sovereigns out of, perhaps, the black tin box 
in the corner of the bedroom at hmne, and does not, 
in any way, come under the category many people 
would have it, or like to have it, to do. 

The latter is a different thing altogether; for it is 
only what it is — a promise, and nothing more, and the 
one accepting it does so on the full understanding 
that it may, or may not, be kept when maturity 
arrives. 

I would make it a criminal act if any map issued a 
cheque for any amount whatever unless he had, at 
the time of drawing the cheque, sufficient at his 
bankers to meet it, or such an arrangement with his* 
Danker that it would be met. By this simple, and, I 
should say, easily accomplished measure, an effectual 
stop would at once be put to the many thousands of 
cases of imposition and fraud which yearly occur. 
Business would be greatly facilitated, and the bogus 
people and the bogus banking accounts would swiftly 
be swept away to the advantage of everybody of 
probity and genuine disposition. 

I throw out this suggestion because I have met 
w:ith so many instances of carefully-thought and 
carried-out schemes, large and small, originated for 
the sole purpose of imposing upon the good nature 
or the laxity, maybe, of the victims; whereas, had 
such a law as I propose been in existence, it would 
have been utterly impossible (as your phantom’’ 
cheque-drawer would hesitate considerably before 
knowingly placing himself within the reach of the 
criminal law) for anyone to have brought their 
machinations and operations to a successful issue. 

What is to prevent, and what does prevent — ^for 
is it not carried on daily in our midst ? — a number of 


CHEQUE-MATED. 


1S9 



€t 


evil-minded persons opening an account at some bank 
or other, and so manipulating matters that they can, 
in a very short time, get rid of, for value, a large 
number of utterly worthless orders to pay that, which 
does not, nor never did, exist; and, unless the sufferer 
can prove that a conspiracy to defraud — a very 
difficult thing at the best of times — has taken place, 
he may whistle in vain for his money or for proper 
retribution. 

If I, or anybody else, taking advantage of a man’s 
carelessness in not properly buttoning up his pocket, 
abstract therefrom, say, a ten-poimd note, and either 
of us are unfortunate enough to be seized by the 
police, we should suffer a severe and thoroughly 
deserved punishment, although, perhaps, the worthy 
magistrate might garnish the sentence with the 
suggestion that the victim should, in the future, be 
careful and not go abroad in the streets with his 
pockets insecurely fastened, and so on. But, on the 
other hand, should I, or any body else, draw a cheque 
for the same amount upon a bank where I know 
perfectly well I have not as many shillings to my 
credit, and prevail upon some unsuspecting indi- 
vidual to cash it, or let me have goods, or goods and 
change — ^the latter so often done — to its amount, I, 
or anybody else, doing this — as deliberate a form of 
swindle as could possibly be conceived, a much worse 
offence than the first — can stand by and laugh at the 
consequences, which are nil, and the same magistrate 
will, perhaps, when applied to for advice on the 
matter, say to the applicant that he ought not to 
have been such a fool. 

I picture this anomaly in the hope that It may 
attract the serious attention of some of our enter- 


140 


DETECnVE STORIES. 


prising law-makers, who may, perhaps, feel sufi8cient 
interest in the defect as to attempt its remedy. And 
now to my story. 

About ten years ago a considerable sensation was 
caused in London by the discovery of a gang con- 
sisting of four men, Mardel, Hughes, Carden, and 
Brown, who had, by the means of some very clever 
manipulations, succeeding in passing a large number 
of ^‘phantom^^ cheques chiefly upon unsuspecting 
suburban tradesmen. In all they had managed to 
secure a very considerable amount of cash — some 
three thousand pounds, I believe — although they had 
been sufficiently wideawake to draw each cheque for 
a small amount, as in no case could it be discovered 
that they had paid away any exceeding in nominal 
value ten pounds. Their reasons for this was that 
the smallness of the amount prevented to a very 
great extent the sufferers froni taking any proceed- 
ings by law, preferring as they did to pocket their 
losses and to exercise more care in the future rather 
than be put to the trouble — ^for it is a trouble, a great 
trouble, to busy men — of having to appear at a prose- 
cution, and perhaps losing time quite equal in value 
to the amount they had been defrauded of. 

At last, however, retribution reached these wrong- 
doers, and, after a tediously protracted trial, they 
were each sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, 
thereupon it was hoped by the authorities, no less 
than by the public, that, at all events for a time, a stop 
had been put upon their dishonest proceedings, but 
to the intense surprise of everyone concerned, the 

phantom” cheques still continued to be negotiated, 
and were brought, with complaints to the autho- 
rities, in fairly large numbers, bearing the signature 


CHEQUE-MATED.* 


141 


M 


(there was no question about this) of one op the other 
of those who had just been committed. It was very 
evident, then, that someone outside the secured! 
members of the gang was still trading in them, and 
apparently with success, and the conclusion being 
arrived at that the four fraudulent persons who 
were now paying the penalty of their misdeeds must 
have left behind them unnegotiated a large number 
of cheques drawn and signed by them before they 
were seized; and the individual with whom they were 
entrusted, whoever he might be, now dealing in them, 
was perhaps not aware that his companions had been 
overreached. Under the directions of Mr. Chief 
Superintendent Williamson, I searched high and 
low, everywhere, excepting, of course, in the right 
place, to discover the guilty party, but in vain; all 
the information I could gather from the unfortunate 
people who had accepted the cheques being ^^that 
an elderly, respectable-looking gentleman had 
brought them to be cashed.” This wasn^t much, as 
so many elderly, respectable-looking gentlemen now- 
adays do things they ought not to do, and I was com- 
pelled to let my investigations cease, at all events 
for a while, giving the case the usual ^^rest,” and 
some weeks thus passed by, One day, shortly after- 
wards, an inspector of one of the south-eastern 
suburban stations sent up to the Yard” a returned 
cheque marked ‘^no effects” which had only been 
cashed a few days before, with a report stating that 
the tradesman who had cashed it knew the individual 
who had brought it to him, who, on finding it returned 
through the bank, had gone to the man’s house to 
see him, but had never been able to secure an inter- 
view, being put off with various kinds of excuses, 


149 


UJBtBCfl'lVB ifORIEA. 


"not at EofflS^ ®"o!rt of town,*^ "uncertain when 
back,’^ and so on, and, not altogether appreciating 
this kind of treatment, placed the matter in the hands 
of the local police, who in turn reported it as men- 
tioned. 

I went over and saw the police officials and the 
tradesman, who was a grocer with a fairly good 
middle-class sort of trade. ‘^Oh, yes, sir,” he replied 
to my queries. know the man very well; he’s 
done business with me for the last ten years. Hd 
never was what you may call a good payer, and owes 
me now a balance of four pounds for goods, besides 
the six pounds ten shillings he had from me on the 
cheque, and he lives not far from my shop, about 
fifteen minutes’ walk, not more.” 

"Do you know what he does at all in the way of 
earning his living?” 

"I believe he is engaged in some office or other in 
the City. At all events, he goes up to Ludgate Hill 
every day, because I have travelled with him on more 
than one occasion.” 

Armed with this information I made further en- 
quiries, discovering that my suspect was a solicitor’s 
clerk; more than this, his employer was actually 
the solicitor entrusted with the defence of one of the 
gang just mentioned. The suspected man’s name was 
Locker, he was about seventy, and had been in one 
situation a considerable number of years, greatly 
trusted and esteemed at the office, being looked upon 
as a hard-working, painstaking servant, but, possess- 
ing a somewhat indifferent education, he had not 
been able to make much headway in the legal world, 
and, in consequence, occupied much the same position 
iSL the office that he had done nearly a quarter of a 


CHEQUE-MATED.’ 


143 


»( 


century before. He had a small salary and a large 
family, two conditions which in the disposition of 
our social economics seem, somehow, to be almost 
indispensable. A rather extravagent wife, who had, 
however, recently died (he had married a second 
time), seven grown up flippant daughters, and four 
somewhat useless sons, had been and were a very 
considerable drain upon the old man’s resources, and 
it was just as much as he could do to keep his house 
together. 

Mardel, the chief spirit in the band of imprisoned 
conspirators who had made use of Locker’s master’s 
services in his defence, was brought into frequent 
contact with Locker, and so impressed this latter 
gentleman with his sharpness that the deluded old 
donkey very readily entered into the scheme which 
Mardel propounded, and which had every prospect of 
a profitable issue if properly and effectively carried 
out. 

The plan of working was a simple one. Locker was 
to be supplied with a liberal supply of blank cheques 
drawn by Mardel or one or the other of his three co- 
conspirators, negotiate them wherever he could, and 
pocket for his share a fifth of the proceeds. The old 
man was sufficiently weak and quite impecunious 
enough to readily fall in with the ^^speculation,” and, 
at an age when everybody else would be thinking 
that their work was finished, his (of a kind) was, so 
to speak, just commencing. His having a very 
venerable appearance and a rather pleasant manner, 
he got rid of a large number of these utterly worth- 
less cheques (which being made payable to himself, 
and which he always endorsed) in different parts of 
the city, generally in payment of goods, receiving 


144 


DETECnVB STORIES. 


the balance in cash in many instances, or purely and 
simply for cash alone. 

When the pngry victims discovered their loss they 
in several instances wrote very threatening letters. 
To these Locker replied, saying ‘Hhat he was sorry 
the cheque had been returned, and as he himself 
had accepted it in payment, he supposed he would 
have to suffer the two losses;” generally a pitiful 
sort of an epistle in which he gave expression to the 
deplorable state of his finances, he would pay-when 
he could and so forth; and the deluded ones, tired 
of making application after application, rather than 
be bothered any longer, invariably preferred to let the 
matter drop. 

His employer got to hear soon about the trans- 
actions, and thereupon cleared the unfortunate indi- 
vidual out of his office in a very peremptory manner 
indeed, and the poor foolish old man was put in a 
worse position than ever he was, for, entirely 
ignorant of the salutary punishment meted out to 
the delinquents whose labours he had shared, and 
being so pushed for money himself, he made the 
great mistake of negotiating one of the cheques, the 
one in fact placed in my hands, in his own neigh- 
bourhood, which led to the authorities’ interference. 
Bat for this unwise transaction, Locker might have 
remained unsuspected, unless perhaps one of the 
conspirators might split,” which was as likely as 
not, for the members of this class of individuals, as 
a rule, have not the slightest possible respect for 
each other Avhen their own difficulties are made • 
apparent by some timely effort or other on the part 
of the police. 

I made a further discovery — ^this being that Locker 


** CHEQUE-MATED.’ 


145 


only the day after he obtained the cash for the cheque 
accepted by the local tradesman had his attention 
for the first time drawn to the arrest and sentences 
upon the other four transgressors by one of his 
daughters, who had got hold of a copy of a daily 
paper quite a month old, giving a full account of the 
proceedings, which she read at the tea-table to the 
old man, who then became visibly agitated, and from 
that time thought it advisable to secrete himself 
from public view, which he did, confidentially in- 
forming his daughter that he was implicated in the 
affair and must keep quiet. I got all this information 
by a very roundabout and searching process. It was 
very disconnected at first, but I managed to string 
the whys and the wherefores together, and thus made 
up a very strong and suspicious case against Locker. 
Besides this I felt tolerably certain that he was 
hiding in or about his own house, several little 
circumstances which occurred convincing me of this, 
most notably the first fact that for quite a week no 
letters were received or posted from the house; and 
the second that when I called at the place in different 
disguises upon various excuses, there was always a 
great commotion in the passage before the front 
door was opened, as though someone was hurrying 
out of one or the other of the rooms. 

At one time I went as a pedlar in a very seedy suit 
of clothes and ^‘make-up.” I knocked at the door, 
and, after the usual delay in opening, one of the 
daughters presented herself and cautiously said: — 

^^What do you want?’^ 

^‘Do you want to buy any penholders?” (having a 
few in my handh 

‘'No.” 


DETECnrS STOBIXS* 


146 

^^Are you sure?*^ 

Quite.” 

the master in^ 

^^No, he went away some time ago*^ (this very 
emphatically). 

Are you certain?” 

''Yes.” 

"When will he be back?” 

"Don’t know — ^why?” 

"Because he always used to buy penholders from 
me to take to his City office.” 

This suggestion startled her a little I could see. 

"Btit perhaps you could tell me where a Mr. 
Higson, the grocer, lives, as I am told he is a kind 
man and might buy some of my penholders?” 

"Oh, yes, he — ^that is to say” (this very confusedly) 
"lie has the third grocer’s shop on this side up the 
street, towards the station.” 

"Thank you, miss.” 

By means such as the above, and by watching their 
effects on the girl who answered the door, as I said, 
I became thoroughly sure that Locker was, if not in 
the house, at least somewhere close at hand. 

Yet to make myself more positive about the matter, 
I called with Inspector Marshall one night about 
seven o’clock, and said that we were old friends of 
Mr. Locker’s, and had called as we were just i)assing 
to spend a few hours with him, and asked if he was 
in, whereupon we were told the stereotyped tale 
"that he was out of town,” and would not be back 
for some time. By a strange coincidence it was my 
"luck” to have to deal on each occasion with a fresh 
daughter, which seemed to have a very amusing 


•• CHBQUB-HATED.' 


14T 


effect, as I had called five times previously and had 
noted a ^^new’’ face every time, and as this made the 
sixth visit, and still another appearance, I began to 
think that it must have at one time rained daughters 
in that neighbourhood. The comical side, however, 
of the case proved useful, for I perceived that each 
one had been very carefully '^coached” what to say 
when enquiries were made respecting father.” 

The impressions made upon us were quite sufficient 
to warrant our again visiting the house at a later 
hour; therefore, we placed a plain-clothes constable 
to watch during our absence, and returned about 
half -past nine. It was a cold, bitter, penetrating, 
January night. It was snowing heavily, and the 
street, consisting chiefly of small houses, looked 
quite light in consequence. 

We planned out our work in the following manner. 
Marshall was to station himself in such a position 
that he could readily obtain a good view of the front 
door, whilst I went round to the back, which I 
accomplished by getting through the window of a 
neighbouring empty house, and carefully piloted my 
way to a part where I could command a good sight 
of the rear of the premises. I accomplished this 
by laying myself out flat on a convenient low wall, 
and in a very few moments was completely covered 
by the falling snow, which gave me an excellent 
opportunity of watching without being perceived 
by anyone. I could easily see into the kitchen of 
Lockyer’s house, where I noticed his daughters 
busily engaged in preparing supper, but could see 
nothing whatever of the man himself. 

In about an hour or so I heard a tremendous rat-a- 
tat on the front door, which I knew to be given by 

E 2 


148 


DETECTIVE STOBIES. 


Marshall, and in less time than I can say it, there 
was a tremendous hubbub and confusion among the 
daughters, followed by a long pause before any of 
them ventured to answer it, the reason of the delay 
being that it gave the old man an opportunity of 
making his appearance, hastily running out of the 
kitchen (into which on hearing the knocking at ^he 
front door he had entered), bare headed into the 
yard, closing the back door hastily and putting his 
ear to the chink, to listen who the visitor was, when, 
not being at all reassured by the voice he heard, he 
hurriedly rushed into a small shed, a kind of wood- 
house, and endeavoured to hide himself. At this I 
got down off the wall, and, walking carefully, 
managed to approach the outhouse unawares to 
Locker, and speaking quietly to him, said, ^^You 
had better come out, Mr. Locker, it is only wasting 
time to try and get away.” To this remark I got 
no reply, so I whistled for Marshall, who came into 
the yard, and together we managed to drag the 
poor old man, who had fainted, out into the open, 
succeeded in getting him round” with a little 
trouble, after which we took him into the house to 
enable him to get his overcoat and muffler before 
accompanying us to the station. 

It was a very sorrowful spectacle indeed, as you 
may be sure, the daughters were all crying, gesticu- 
lating, and imploring us not to take him away. In 
the midst of it all the old man seemed quite dazed 
and unable to speak, although I bad let him have a 
pretty good pull out of a spirit flask I had with me, 
he had just a few mouthfuls of the hot supper and 
that was all, and without saying a word he followed 
us into the passage, when the scene became even 


CHEQUE-MATED. 


149 


fC 


more distressing. The girls clung to him, and to 
Marshall and myself, and implored us to let their 
father go. We were quite an hour there before we 
could get him out into the street, and even then all 
the daughters followed us, without head-dresses or 
shawls, the snow still falling, increasing, rather than 
diminishing the whole time during our mournful 
and uninspiriting journey to the station-house in 
Eochester Eow, Westminster, something like five 
miles, not a cab or conveyance to be had, and be/ 
'seeching us the whole time not to take him away. 
It was more like a funeral procession than anything 
else, and I was not sorry when we got him into 
quarters,’^ which we did just as Big Ben struck 
midnight, the station door then closed upon us, and 
the daughters weepingly went home. 

Locker, although he had negotiated upwards of 
sixty of the ^‘phantom’’ cheques, was, on account of 
his age and previous good character, sentenced only 
to nine months’ imprisonment, and that without hard 
labour. He, however, died in gaol. 


A PEOULATmG “SAMSON." 

Some half-dozen years ago there might have been 
seen an itinerant troupe of entertainers giving their 
performances and exhibiting their powers in a tent 
erected on a piece of waste ground situate in the 
outskirts of Brussels. It was a motley, ill-favoured 
group — a mere handful of persons who had joined 
their forces together, seeking fortune by showing 
off, for the public^s edification and amusement, their 
various feats of dexterity and strength. They 
heralded themselves in gorgeous large-typed placards 
as ^‘The World-wide and Kenowned Troupe of Presti- 
digitateurs. Gymnasts, and Strong Men from Mexico,” 
and very clever and very strong they were. They 
had travelled nearly all over the globe with more or 
less varying degrees of financial success, and, after 
experiencing vicissitudes in Holland, had crossed 
over into Belgium, and were there reaping a 
fair harvest, which, in a great measure, made up 
for their previous losses among the unappreciative 
Dutchmen, whose country they had just so unregret- 
fully passed through. 

They were as curious and as mixed a set, these 
performers, as anyone could expect to see, the head 
of the troupe being a man of nearly forty years of 
age, a powerful, hulking person, with a muscular 
development which struck his audience with re 
spectful awe and envy, a swaggering, roystering 
fellow, who prided himself upon his closely-cropped 


A PECULATING ** SAMSON.’ 


151 


hair and immense physical strength. He styled him- 
self, Senor Don Albado, and he it was who performed 
daily and nightly such feats as throwing the cannon 
halls, lifting heavy weights, and so on, and was the 
terror of all in his employ, excepting the big, bold, 
red-faced, brazen-looking woman, who passed as his 
wife, and who, in a gaudy, ill-fitting, dowdyish cos- 
tume of tights, took, among other duties, charge of 
the treasury,” and was billed” as the ‘^Senorita 
Cazallava, the unparalleled gymnaste.” 

The others of the party wie^re a niece of the ^‘seno- 
rita,” a gawky, long-limbed girl, who also wore 
lights, and assisted in the performance; two hungty- 
looking youths — apprentices — who had been stowa- 
ways in an American liner, and a little, decrepid, 
mis-shapen lump of mortality — st hunchback about 
thirty, witli a villainous cast of countenance, and who 
was very clever at conjuring, and all sorts of card 
tricks. 

Senor Don Albado was an intense bully, and led his 
troupe some rare dances occasionally, if anything 
displeased him, which was pretty often, or if he had 
been drinldng, which was quite as frequent, and beat 
tliem and abused them shamefully — ^all excepting 
the fair senorita, who could use her tongue and 
fingers to a very con^derable extent when Albado 
was inclined at any time to be more tlian usually 
violent. Altogether, this Delilah of his had the 
power of subduing him in a most wonderful manner, 
not by cutting his locks but by picking up the first 
handy piece of furniture she could get hold of and 
"going for,” in a very energetic manner, her para- 
mour. Brutelike, he, for this practical though un- 
pleasant evidence of superiority on her pare, r&- 


152 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


spected her accordingly. Beyond this, her know- 
ledge of, and fluency in, ^^Billinsgate ” was such 
as to always inspire even Albado with reverence to- 
wards [her. Eegularly each night performances 
were given, and in the afternoons Albado would hold 
receptions,” and give lessons in, or exhibit his 
powers of, ^ioxing, and these were invariably at- 
tended by the better, or rather wealthier, classes 
interested in such matters, as many as flfty persons 
often making their appearance, and, in many in- 
stances, taking part in the arrangements, and when 
the “hat” was passed round after the performance, 
these visitors responded pretty freely. 

By these means the troupe built up quite a repu- 
tation, and this unexpected success, coming so soon 
after the months of depression which had preceded 
iti had the tendency to increase Albado’s bullying 
conduct and liking for drink, with the result that 
he, to use an expression of one of the youths, made 
“everything unpleasant for everybody.” To such a 
pitch did he carry matters, that he began to insult 
and assault even the visitors to the show, as well as 
people, innocent passers-by in the street, who, owing 
to his unmistaken strength, generally fought as shy 
as possible of him. 

One day, however, Albado, to his cost, went just 
a little to far, for happening to meet two or three 
young English tourists who were paying a visit to 
Brussels, he, without the slightest provocation what- 
soever, swore at them and called them all sorts of 
foul names. Like sensible beings, however, the young 
men took no notice whatever of the blackguard^s 
conduct, but passed on as if notliing at all had 
happened. This annoyed Albado, who was in a 


A PECULATING “ SAMSON.” 153 

particularly mischievous mood at the time, so pulling 
off his coat with a great show of bravado, and tlmow- 
ing it on the ground, he went up to one of the young 
fellows, and, with a loud curse, hit him a rather 
formidable blow on the cheek. 

The man, however, even with this kept his temper, 
and, beyond blinking a little bit, did nothing but 
continue in the direction he was going. By this 
time a crowd had collected which somewhat impeded 
his progress, and Albado, taking advantage of it, 
and using a volley of oaths, made an ugly rush at 
the unoffending individual — ^who was tall and as 
lithe as a lance, but wore blue spectacles, and looked 
the most unlikely man possibly to retaliate — and 
aimed another blow at him. Much to the surprise 
of everybody, and more to the astonishment of 
Albado than anyone else, the young follow drew 
himself up, parried the blow, and gave his assailant 
a right-hander’^ under the ear with such force that 
he knocked the ruffian off his feet into the gutter, 
to the intense amusement of the crowd, who were 
heartily pleased with the turn things were taking, 
Albado having become so well known as an obnoxious 
character. 

The Senor managed to get on his feet and face his 
foe again. By this time the tall young man had 
divested himself of his coat and hat, and taken off his 
sun-glasses, rolled up his sleeves, and with a very 
cool but defiant and determined look waited for 
Albado to make another move, which that individual 
did but with exactly the same results as before, upon 
which the crowd fairly cheered in their excitement. 

Again and again was Albado knocked down, nearly 
always with that pai*ticular, disgreeable and formid- 


154 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


able ^^right-hander” under the ear, until at last, 
being so thoroughly pummelled and thrashed, he 
could not manage to toe the line again, upon which 
the young fellow, having hardly turned a hair, gave 
him a parting look, which had volumes in it, asked 
for his coat, hat, and spectacles, coolly put them on, 
took the arm of one of his companions, who seemed 
to take the whole affair quite as a matter of course, 
and quietly walked away. 

The tall young man, the visitor, was a fourth year 
student at St. George’s Hospital, captain of its 
cricket club, and stroke oar in the students’ eight. 

Albado reached his tent a few hours later, much 
humbled in spirit and considerably punished in body, 
and for a few days he needed all the senorita’s nurs- 
ing and attention before he was tit for work again, 
and in a condition suitable for his reappearance in 
public. When he did venture again upon the 
‘^boards,” he was greeted with jeers and hootings 
and sarcasms by his audience — a, perceptibly 
diminished one — ^as his beating had got into all the 
papers, and was in the mouth of everybody, for the 
^‘troupe” had received very considerable patronage 
in one way and the other from the citizens of 
Brussels, and who, although having previously ap- 
plauded the man, were just as ready now to chaff” 
and annoy him, such being only one of the many 
penalties attached to fame and popularity. 

The ‘"flowing tide'” was evidently from this time 
not with Albado, and he found himself and his per- 
formances becoming, now that his own physical 
powers had been set at nought by the vigorous action 
of the smart medical student, every day less appre- 
ciated, as the dwindling audiences only too readily 


A PECULATING “SAMSON.’ 


155 


testified. In a few weeks matters became stiU more 
alarming, the snm of four shillings and ninepence 
only representing the actual takings” on one of, 
which was generally supposed to be, their busiest 
evenings. 

This sort of thing could not last long, so making 
a grand effort by advertising pretty freely a final 
mid-day reception as well as a farewell night fete, 
both of which were responded to so poorly that 
expenses were not paid, he closed the show and de- 
parted', with much cursing and with much ill-feehrig, 
from the land of Blucher, and made his way direcl^ 
to England, his destination being London, where he 
duly landed, taking up his abode in lodgings in the 
neighbourhood of Fitzroy Square, there resting upon 
his labours for a while, where his enforced leisure 
gave him every possible opportunity of strongly de- 
veloping the intemperate habits he had"^ recently con 
tracted, and which, in turn, led him into every 
imaginable excess. 

Albado was brought under my notice by the fact 
that Scotland Yard had received notification from 
the Belgian authorities of his probable landing in 
London; who, furnishing a fairly full description of 
him, demanded his extradition on the grounds that 
at the “reception,” which he gave in the afternoon 
immediately preceding his departure, he had man- 
aged to abstract from the pockets of the clothes — 
which had been placed in a screened-off portion of 
the tent and used as a dressing-room, of several of 
the gentlemen who took part in the proceedings, their 
watches and chains, no doubt with the intention of 
re-imbursing himself for some of his disappoint- 
ments; and suspicion had not been awakened until 


156 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 




he was, so to say, ‘^over the hills and far away” to- 
wards this country — ^which, by some strange irony 
of fate, is made the rendezvous of all the continental 
blacklegs who can safely crowd into it. 

There was no difficulty in getting at Albado, for 
I had already been apprised by one of my ^in- 
formers,” residing in the neighbourhood of Totten- 
ham Court Eoad, of the appearance of a very power- 
ful man, and who was invariably drunk, and very 
noisy when in that condition, who appeared to be 
able to speak very good English, likewise also to 
possess a fair knowledge of several other languages. 
He created rather a sensation in the vicinity of his 
lodgings by his strength, having been seen on one 
occasion to bodily lift up together from the ground, 
to the man’s intense astonishment, an organ-grinder 
and his instrument, with the greatest possible ease, 
putting them down again and walking on as though 
nothing whatever had happened, thereby greatly 
interesting the bystanders. 

So I, therefore, thought I would pay him a visit, 
and at all events have a preliminary talk with him. 
He was at home, as it happened, when I called at 
the house he was staying at, suffering from a violent 
headache, and, as the ^^senorita” remarked as she 
came into the sitting-room, very bad-tempered in 
consequence. Presently he made his appearance, and 
gruffly and surlily enquired, with, I thought, a con- 
siderable suspicion of a cockney twang in it, ^^What 
I wanted?” 

^^Well,” I said, “I have heard so much of your 
enormous strength that, purely out of curiosity, I 
took the liberty of calling upon you that I might 


A PECULATING ‘‘ SAMSON.’ 


157 


have the pleasure of beholding you in the flesh, 
senor.” 

This appeared to mollify him. It is really as- 
tonishing what a little flattery will do occasionally, 
and he thereupon playfully seized me by the waist 
and proceeded to lift me off my feet to convince me 
that what I had heard was perfectly correct. 

Several other feats of strength he gave me an 
illustration of, and after a little further chat, in 
which I took the opportunity to say that “I thought 
I CO aid secure him an engagement, at all events for 
some little time,” I came away, having arranged to 
talk the engagement idea over with him the next 
morning at a public-house near Covent Garden. 

He turned up at the time appointed, and I, of 
course, was there to meet him — Shaving taken the i)re.- 
caution to have half-a-dozen, plain clothes,” able- 
bodied policemen easily witliin reach, in case I might 
require to make use of their services. 

^^Good morning, senor,” I remarked; and, producing 
iny warrant, said, “This is a paper which gives all 
the particulars of the little engagement I have in 
view for you.” 

He looked rather pleased, and remarked, Where 
is it ? ” 

“In Brussels. I am a police officer, and this paper 
is a document asking for your extradition for the 
offence of stealing flve watches from five persons, 
the names of which I read out to him. 

He put on a very evil and threatening expression, 
and clutched his fingers, whereupon anticipating his 
designs by giving, a signal, which brought my batch 
of men on to tlie scene at once. I then asked him 


158 


DETECTIVE STOEIES. 


to accompany us to Bow Street, where he was duly 
locked up, bail being refused. 

He was allowed to communicate with the ^^seno* 
rita/’ who employed a solicitor for his defence, and 
who quickly put matters straiglit for Albado b}' 
making a surprising statement, which I had to verify 
by investigation, but which was quite sufficient to 
secure him his unconditional and immediate release 
upon the results of my looking into matters being 
known; the statement was to the effect that Senor 
Don Albado was no other than a notorious Mile End 
pugilist, whose real name was Jem White, and who 
some dozen years or so set out ‘^furrin ” to seek his 
fortune in company with the “senorita,” who turned 
out to be ^^Lizer” Green, a well-known character, 
originally residing in the unsavoury locality of Great 
Peter Street, Westminster. 

As the extradition laws do not, of course, apply 
to a naturalised subject of the country he or she may 
be arrested in, nothing more could be done, and the 
last I heard of ^^ the world- wide and renowned troupe 
of prestidigateurs, gymnasts, and strong men from 
Mexico ” was a provincial tour had been arranged 
for it, and it was then doing pretty well in a small 
way at Knott-Mill ^^Fair,” Manchester. 


“ON THE HIGH SEAS." 

The sliip ^‘SaJxa,” in the year 1885, sailed from 
Trieste, the well-known port in Austria, bound for 
Dover. 

She had on board a miscellaneous cargo, and was 
manned by a mixed crew, under the command of a 
part owner of the vessel, a drunken, dissolute, reck- 
less individual, whose sole study and consideration 
appeared to be the almost constant emptying and 
replenishing of a pannikin of spirits, which was 
always within his convenient reach. 

Just before the vessel left the port, a bright, 
fresh, healthy-looking young Austrian, travel-worn 
and dusty, hurried up to the wharf, and pleaded 
hard with the captain to be given a passage to 
England in return for such duties he could perform, 
and which he would endeavour to carry out to the 
best of his ability. 

The request, though met with a surly, sulky 
growl, was readily granted, particularly as the 
youth seemed a fairly good sort, that the ship was 
considerably undermanned, and the terms such that 
even the grasping, hard-hearted captain couldj 
scarce complain of; therefore, the young man 
stepped on board delighted to be able to escape from 
the uncongenial work he had left behind, for the 
truth was that he had run away from his master (to 


160 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


whom he was apprenticed), and the occupation he 
disliked, and was anxious to come to England, 
which he had heard so much of, and try his fortunes 
there. 

For some reason or other not apparent to anyone 
but the man himself, the captain took a great dislike 
to the lad almost before the vessefbad left the port, 
commencing to shower down upon him abuse of 
every possible description. 

To the youth^s credit, however, he kept his temper, 
having noticed that the captain was apparently 
under the influence of liquor, and not quite re- 
sponsible for his actions, and he performed his 
newly -found, unaccustomed and arduous duties in 
a manner that called forth the admiration of every- 
body on board, of course excepting the commander, 
who, instead of being mollified by the young man's 
endeavours and pleased at his untiring industry, 
seemed rather to develop his discontent, and take 
every opportunity- of showing his dislike. 

Oiiie day, Avhen w^ell out at sea, in a heavy sw^ell 
and with a stiff wind blowing, he caught sight of the 
lad as he was walking along the deck seizing hold 
of the pieces of rope attached to the bulwarks for 
the purpose of steadying himself as he went along. 
Considering this to be a very unseamanlike method 
of proceeding, the captain called out with an oath to 
the youth to ^^let go his hold, and walk along properly, 
and not show his land-lubberly tricks there.^' 
Obedient to the command the youth did do so, with 
the result that, by a sudden and unexpected lurch of 
tlie vessel, he was pitched most unceremoniously onto 
some iron chains lying close by, and with such force 
that his head was severely cut and he himself ren- 


ON THE HIGH SEAS.’ 


161 


(( 


dered insensible — ^the blood running profusely out 
tbe open wound into his hair and down his face on 
to the deck. 

The callous captain refused to allow any of the 
men who had witnessed the affair to pick the lad up, 
and with an oath, remarked, Leave him alone; he’ll 
come to soon enough, I’ll warrant.” Finding, con- 
trary to his expectation, that he did not come to, 
the brute rushed angrily forward, and, with a thick- 
knotted piece of rope, beat the insensible lad about 
the body in a most shameful manner, cursing and 
swearing the whole time, finally seizing him by the 
collar, dragging him ^^for’ard ” and cruelly throwing 
him down the companion way” of the fore cabin, 
where he tumbled helplessly and bleeding into the 
midst of the astonished group of men off duty, who 
were sitting around the lockers smoking and con- 
versing. 

This unwarrantable action almost caused a mutiny, 
for several of the men rushed up on deck, and, in a 
very angry manner, threatened the captain with 
what they would do if he did not take care and be 
more reasonable. 

The only satisfaction, however, which the^^ re- 
ceived, was a shot from the infuriated beast’s re- 
volver, which hit one of the men in the shoulder, just 
grazing the flesh; therefore, being themselves per- 
fectly unarmed, and considering that, under the 
circumstances, discretion was the better part of 
valour, particularly in dealing with a man of that 
kind, who seemed to be hardly responsible for his owm 
actions, they discreetly returned to their quarters, 
and held a consultation as to the best mode of pro- 
cedure under the circumstances. 


h 


1((2 


D ETEC T IVE STORIES. 


In the meantime, the lad had been brought to,” 
some rum given to him, and his head bound up, and 
put into a berth. The captain, swaggering and 
shouting on the deck, fired off the remaining shots 
from his revolver, went to his cabin, and was soon 
fast asleep. 

The men decided that they would not take any 
action in the matter until the morning^ as by that 
time the captain would have probably slept off some 
of the eff>ects of his debauch, and prove himself to 
be a little more amenable to reason; if not, they had 
thoroughly made up their minds to use the requisite 
force necessary to place him under proper control 
should it be required. 

The next morning, at about nine o^clock, a great 
noise and scuffling was heard going on in the cap- 
tain’s cabin, and a number of the crew rushed for- 
ward, armed with marlinespikes, expecting to find 
something of the kind which happened on the pre- 
vious night again going on. It appears that the 
injured lad went as usual to straighten up the cabin, 
this being one of the duties he had to perform, when 
the captain, suddenly awaking, caught sight of the 
handkerchief tied round the youth’s head, and evi- 
dently having forgotten all about the affair of the 
evening before, although in no way personally 
ameliorated in his feelings towards the lad, had 
suddenly got up, and roughly seizing the handker- 
chief, tore it from his head, administering at the 
same time a number of cowardly kicks which sent 
the youth reeling across to the other side. 

Well, human nature must be really more than what 
it is to be able to stand this sort of treatment long 
without resisting it in some way or other, and the 


ON THE HIGH SEAS.’ 


163 


M 


now thoroughly infuriated lad did resent it, but in 
such a fashion as hardly to have been expected from 
him. Thoroughly roused at last by the captain^s 
brutal conduct, he grasped that semi-di*unken brute 
by the throat, forced him back on to the bed, and, 
in a moment of frenzied anger and excitement, 
plunged his knife right up to the hilt in tlie man’s 
abdomen, and this just as the crew, attracted by the 
noise, reached the doorway, unfortunately too late to 
prevent the crime, which after all was one of as near 
to justifiable homicide as anything possibly could 
be, being committed; and only in time to witness 
the captain’s last gasp, and the lad’s look of perfect 
horror when he was himself again, and who, realising 
for the first time the awful deed which he had done, 
burst into tears very much overcome, having to be led 
away to his berth. 

We may be perfectly sure that the deed caused 
no little astonishment and anxiety on board. The 
second mate was voted to the command, and an 
inquiry was held before the whole of the assembled 
crew, evidence and a description of the body taken, 
and the lad was informed that, although he would 
not be placed in confinement, he must, nevertheless, 
consider himself under arrest, and be prepared to 
be duly handed over to the authorities in Dover, 
in whose charge they regretted they would be com- 
pelled to leave him; for it must be confessed that the 
youth’s engaging manners and frankness had made 
him the most popular person on board, excepting 
perhaps the mate who had recently been elected to 
the general charge of affairs. 

In less than sixty hours from this time the white 
cliffs of Dover hove in sight and the quay was 

L 2 


164 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


reached. The first thing was to communicate with 
the police, who boarded the vessel for the purpose 
of arresting the poor lad who had placed himself 
in such an unfortunate position, when, to the surprise 
of the police officials, and to the apparent astonish- 
ment of everybody else, he was not to be found. A 
thorough search was made, but nothing revealed 
itself but the fact that the youngster had been one 
too many for them, and had escaped. I say surprise 
and astonishment. That the police were surprised 
I have not the slightest doubt whatsoever; but that 
astonishment (real genuine astonishment) was expe- 
rienced by the cre^ I have my own opinion, which 
opinion, I take it, I am free to maintain. It was 
thought by some, who, of course, held different 
opinions to myself, and expressed them, that the 
lad had jumped overboard and committed suicide 
rather than face the disagreeable consequences of the 
legal tribunal. Strange to say, or perhaps not very 
strange after all, this was a suspicion which the 
sailors all seemed very anxious to propitiate. Others 
thought that the lad had escaped into the town and hid 
himself there, and a thorough look through the 
whole place was resorted to in consequence, rewards 
offered, and all the rest of it, but all to no avail. The 
lad had got clean away somehow, and where he had 
got to for the time being no one seemed to know. 

The captain’s body was duly landed, and there 
was not much of anything approaching expressions 
or looks of regret on the part of the crew, when 
the ghastly burden was wheeled off to the mortuary, 
and no one in particular seemed to trouble themselves 
much about being present at the funeral. 

A few days after the captain ;was interred — ^if 


being put into a ctteap matchwood box, and tumbled 
into a hastily dug hole, can be called interment — a 
father sharp young member of tlie Dover police 
learned that the youth had proceded to London the 
day the ship arrived. Thereupon Scotland Yard’’ 
was made acquainted with the circumstance, and 
requested to lend its assistance in the affair. 

1 Avas told off to investigate the matter, and take 
up what clues 1 could find, and try to discover the 
whereabouts of the escaped one. 

The first thing I did, of course, was to pay a visit 
to Dover and interview the police authorities there, 
examine the ship and question the crew. The police 
had very little to tell me, the creAv had less; in fact, 
never did I in all my experience ever meet with such 
a *4mow-nothing set of men as these latter; they 
all had such faulty memories and such hazy ideas 
that 1 fairly groaned in despair and aggravation. 
There were no less than eighteen “hands on board, 
and every one of them, from the captain down to 
the cook’s boy, had, by some extraordinary circum- 
stance or otlier, each of them a totally different idea 
of the missing youth. 

One said he w^as short, another declared he was tall, 
but was not certam as he had not had much to do 
Avith him; a third remarked that he was thin, whilst 
a fourth most solemnly assured me that he wjts in- 
clined to be stout, and so on, which variety of de- 
scriptions I. carefully noted down in my book, with 
the hope of being perhaps, after all, able to make 
something of them. The result was that the “in- 
formation ” T got was simply one huge incompre- 
hensible mass of unintelligible contradictions. All 
that I could learn and depend upon was that the 


166 


DEI'ECTIVE 8TOBIE8. 


youth was an Austrian, and I only obtained this 
information on the perusal of the depositions which 
he had signed, giving his full name and address, 
which I had verified by application by ^‘wire ” to 
the Austrian authorities. At the conclusion of the 
enquiry instituted by the crew immediately after 
the captain^s death, I never had a more unsatisfac- 
tory two hours, and never learned less in the time. 
To use a sporting phrase, I drew a ‘^blank,’^ and a 
very unsatisfactory blank, too, for it was very evident 
to me that tlie crew were thoroughly determined to 
a man to give me as little assistance in my investi- 
gations as they possibly could, and I learned to 
appreciate tliis feeling when just as I was about to 
go ashore, having one of my feet on the gangwa}^ 
for that purpose, I was attracted by hearing a sup- 
pressed laugh immediately behind me. Quickly 
turning 1 overheard one of tlie sailors saying to 
another standing close by, in French, little thinking 
I understood the language, ^^He didn’t get much out 
of us, did he?” The ^^he ” meant me, of course; and 
this remark only confirmed the impression already 
made upon me in tlie early stage of the proceedings 
as to the youth’s escape. 

It would be a very long story — ^far longer, indeed, 
than you would care to read, if I filled in all the 
details describing how I took up what poor clues I 
had. Suffice it to say that within a fortnight after 
taking my work in hand I contrived to get on the 
youth’s track. He had managed to get to Leighton 
Buzzard, on to Crewe and Preston, and from thence 
to the borders of Northumberland. In another week 
I discovered him one evening in a field working 
heartily with a farmer and his labourers, with whom; 


ON THE HIGH SEAS. 


167 


(C 

he had only been about three days, helping them to 
stack hay, and this in a little out-of-the-way village^ 
three miles from the nearest railway station, and 
twenty-six miles from the main line, a place where 
I should imagine a detective had never before set foot. 

He was, of course, very considerably surprised 
and ^^cut up’^ on hearing the purport of my visit, 
when I quietly, and unobserved by the others, made 
my presence known to him, telling him that he would 
have to accompany me back to London, and he begged 
very hard not to be taken, “he would never do the 
same again, and it was really only in self-defence 
that he unthinkingly committed the crime, and what 
would his poor father and mother say,^^ etc. I felt 
heartily sorry for the lad, but, of course, I had my 
duty to do, much as I felt the hardship of the case 
when I learned the whole circumstances of the sad 
affair from him, and which were exactly as I have 
related them. It was too late to return southwards 
that night, the last main line train having left some 
time previously, so the only thing left for me to 
do was to take my charge to the village inn, engage 
a bed, and arrange to start off the next morning. 
We supped together, and the two of us occupied the 
same bedroom. Before retiring, I said to the lad 
very earnestly, thinking it might be of service to 
him: “You are a very young man to be charged with 
an offence of this kind, and the consequences may 
her serious to you indeed; they would, I am certain, 
be so in this country. Not, however, knowing the 
Austrian law, I cannot say how the affair might be 
viewed in yours. It was rather foolish of you to run 
away, but that is done with. All I want to say is, 
don’t try to escape whilst yoii are with me, for I am 


168 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


sure lib find again, and the attempt would only 
very greatly damage your prospects of ameliorated 
punishment.” 

The lad was really very penitent, and said ^‘that I 
might thoroughly trust him in not endeavouring to 
get away, particularly as I had spoken so kindly to 
him, so different to the way in which the captain 
had treated him,” &c. With this we went to bed. 

The next day and the three following ones I was 
totally unable to get up owing to a very acute and 
unexpected attack of colic, which botii the local 
medical practitioner and I really thought was going 
to end in peritonitis, and I don^t know what in the 
world I should have done in that out-of-the-way place 
had it not been for my prisoner, who devoted himself 
entirely to me during that time, sat up with and 
poulticed me for two nights, administered food and 
medicine, and proved himself an exceptionally care- 
ful and patient nurse. He tended me in such a 
manner that the more I thought of it the more did 
I conclude how hard it appeared to have to repay 
him for all his kindness to me by landing him in gaol. 
It was the first time I had ever experienced anything 
of the kind at the hands of a prisoner, and I could 
not help feeling truly grateful for his disinterested- 
ness. 

The following Saturday, just one month from the 
day I set out, I reached town, handed my charge 
over to the custody of the officials at Bow Street, 
and in due course he was extradited in the usual 
way to Austria. 

A local Austrian newspaper, now lying on the 
table before me, gives a very full account of the 
whole of the trial, which lasted four days, and 


"on the high seas,’ 


169 


attracted, owing to the prisoned youth and the 
special circumstances attending the tragedy, a great 
amount of sympathy and attention. Every one of 
the ship’s crew turned up to give evidence, and if 
they could not say much towards enlightening the 
court as to the actual offence— for it will be remem- 
bered that they were just too late to witness the 
commission of it — ^their expressed admiration for 
the boy, and their testimony as to the deceased 
captain’s notorious character, and his brutality on 
more than one occasion, was everything that could 
be desired from a defendant’s point of view, and 
quite made up for any little deficiency in that 
respect. I’ve heard a fairly good deal of what is 
generally termed “hard swearing” in my time. I 
have seen scientific, professional, and other witnesses 
contradict each other in the most approved manner, 
and have listened to statements in the witness-box, 
made by apparently respectable people, which caused 
everybody, except those making them, to positively 
blush at their transparency; but never in all my life 
have I heard or read such a thoroughly sustained 
phalanx of evidence in favour of the prisoner and 
against the captain as I note in the columns of the 
newspaper containing the account of it, and as set 
forth by the sailors, who were determined to do 
their duty by their messmate, the incriminated 
youth, or perjure themselves in the attempt. 

The captain, looking at the matter in a perfectly 
free and unbiassed manner, only received, perhaps, 
what he exactly deserved, for he was undoubtedly 
a scoundrel of a very black type, but on this evidence, 
as I read it, he was painted by the eighteen witnesses 
as mortal was never painted before, and the impres- 




170 DETEOTIVB STOBIES. 

sion undoubtedly was conveyed to the court that if 
anything at all the treatment had in reality been 
very much too mild for him. 

It was undoubtedly a serious charge, that of taking 
away another man’s life, and the judge felt that, 
when he delivered himself of his opinion regarding 
the case. ^^It was serious, very serious,” he 
remarked, ^‘but the provocation was so great that 
he thought the ends of justice would be met by 
administering a sentence of three months’ imprison- 
ment without hard labour,” which was just about 
a twelfth of what I had prepared the prisoner to 
expect. 

« * « « * 

The ^^Salxa” still sails regularly between Trieste 
and Dover, and my young capture” is now; third 
mate. 


“WMTED FOE MTJEBEE.” 


^How 01) earth, do you imagine that I am going to 
find liim? 

“I don’t know, I am sure; but you bad better have 
a try.” 

^‘Well, where shall I begin? ” 

^^Oh hang it! anywhere. Turn round three times 
just in the same way as the children do in blind- 
man’s-buff, and see who you can catch.” 

^^It strikes me that I am hardly placed on the same 
satisfactory footing as the children in blind-man’s- 
buff, for they do manage to have a pretty good pi*e- 
liminary look over those they endeavour to catch 
before permitting the handkerchief to be tied over 
their eyes; and here I am expected to find, with not 
the slightest possible clue supplied as to his move- 
ments, an individual whom I- have never seen, and, 
as far as I can at present venture to predict, never 
likely to see.” 

“Well, my dear fellow, if Scotland Yard were kept 
informed of the exact locality where all the delin- 
quents and Avrong doers are from time to time to be 
found there would be no work for you and your 
seven hundred felloAV detectives to perform, would 
there? ” 

“No,” replied I, a little savagely, “there would not, 
and no superintendent would be required to supervise 
them and ask them to undertake utter impossibilities.” 


172 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


^^You don^t want me to go and look for him, do 
yon? " said my superior, viciously. 

I remarked, don’t; but I really tMnk that 
a vejhement protest should be lodged with the 
authorities as to the very meagre particulars which 
are too often supplied by the Continental police.” 

‘^Yes, 1 quite see the general reasonableness of 
your remarks, and agree with their justness; but I 
am rather of a practical nature, Mr. Moser, and all 
this valuable time we are devoting to what at its 
best is only a profitless discussion, your ^man’ is 
perhaps taldng advantage of, to put a still greater 
distance between himself and his pursuers.” 

“The murder, you say, was committed about three 
months ago? ” 

“Exactly that time within a week.” 

“Hum! Groodness only knows where I jam to 
begin and where I am likely to finijsh. But I can 
only try.” 

My superintendent and I had been holding this 
confab one morning after some papery had been 
placed in my hands relating to a murder which had 
been committed in Westphalia, Saxony. 

The Westphalian police had searched Very dili- 
gently in their own country for the murderer, but 
without success; but they had managed to secure 
sufficient evidence to warrant them in believing that 
tlie miscreant had sailed for England. 

It appealred that thje decomposing body of the 
victim had been found in the middle of a dense forest 
about fourteen days after th)e commission of the 
crime (according to the statement of the medical 
experts), and nine weeks after this tlie authoritiels 
communicated to Scotland Yard the intelligence 


•‘WANTED EOR MURDER.” 173 

that the murderer had, to the best of their belief, 
come over to this country. 

The victim — a gamekeeper — ^had been identified by 
his relatives; and as he was a good-hearted sort of 
fellow, well known in the distidct, two reasons were 
only forthcoming as to tJie probable cause of the 
murder. The first — and the less probable — ^that the 
murderer was a poacher, perhaps surprised in his 
work by the gamekeeper, with whoni he apparently 
had struggled desperately, for there were a consider- 
able number of footmarks and broken twigs about 
the spot where the body had been found; the second — 
and more likely — ^that robbery was at the bottom of 
it all, for the murdered man’s watch (a silver one) 
and his cartridge belt were missing; yet to contradict 
this theory, his money was not removed. 

Chiefiy by ti’acing the footsteps, which owing fcc 
a long season of dry weather had not been obliterated, 
the local police had, by commendable patience ajid 
industry, managed to seci^re in th^eir own minds 
pretty conclusive evidence that the guilty person, 
whoever he might be — ^as to who he really was they 
had not the faintest shade of an idea — ^had left Wes^ 
phalia en route for England. 

A full description of the body of the ioaurdered 
3nan,, fhe jolothing and asrticleis found upon him,' 
also of the missing watch, which was a curious old- 
fashioned one, with the head of a dog — 2 b dachshnn<l — 
engraved upon it, and the cartridge belt was supplied. 
On these details — ^not a line indicating whom the 
prisoner might be — I was requested to set out among 
thirty-five millions of people dispersed over an area 
of many thousands of square miles, and from these, 
all oyer, or anywhere in the United Eongdom, to do 


1T4 




DETECTiVE STORIES. 

my best to find a man who was snppofsed to have 
shot a gamekeeper eleven weeks before in a forest 
at Westphalia. 

My readers will thus, perhaps, appreciate the un- 
satisfactory nature of my task. To say that 1 set 
to work unprepossessed because of its almost utter 
hopelessness only mildly describes my feelings at the 
time. 

Several applications to Westphalia for additional 
particulars or clues were fruitless; the authorities 
wrote stating most emphatically that they had sup- 
plied the Yard’^ with every particle of information 
in their possession. 

One slight consolation was left to me, however, 
and that was — and I thanked the fates heartily for 
ft at the time — ^the fact that this glorious country of 
ours is an island, and the murderer — ^whoever he 
might be— ‘could not have possibly walked over; 
therefore, if he came at all, he would arrive at some 
port or other in the United Kingdom. The West- 
phalians had mentioned the port from which they 
thought the murderer might have embarked, but this 
didn’t help us at all, for nearly every vessel of im- 
portance from England sails to and from there. 
Had it been hams or potted meat enquired about, no 
doubt we should have obtained more satisfactory 
information, but being merely the escape of a mur- 
derer, the official intelligence was provokingly dull 
and apathetic on the matter; but perhaps I expected 
loo much. 

The first thing I saw to was the dispatch to every 
port of a circular note giving such particulars as 
were supplied to us, requesting the police to enquire 
at all the shipping offices and other likely places, and 


“wanted for murder.’^ 175 

ask the officials whether they could remember, at any 
time within the past three months, a provincial 
German arriving there. 

I felt when I composed this circular that it was 
very indefinite, and expected a great deal too much 
out of nothing, but I was not quite prepared for the 
perfect torrent of sarcasm and chaff which was for- 
warded to the “Yard” in acknowledgment of it; it 
wrote (unofficially, of course) “that if the circular 
had been dated the first of April he could have under- 
stood its purport.” Another remarked “that it was a 
great pity that the Criminal Investigation Department 
of Scotland Yard had nothing better to do than des- 
patch conundrums all over the country.” A third 
asked “whether the ‘Yard’ thought they put all the 
provincial Germans arriving at their port into cages 
for a few months, until they were claimed by some- 
one;”, whilst a fourth, a peppery, middle-aged Major 
in the north, “wondered what the devil we meant by 
our damned nonsense,” and a lot more to the same 
effect, the other details of this gentleman’s letter 
being, as the newspaper reporter remarked, “quite 
unfit for publication.” The remainder either just 
formally acknowledged its receipt or ignored it alto- 
gether, with the exception of one who, to my intense 
surprise, just as I was beginning to think that I 
could not possibly get any further in the matter, 
wote quite three weeks after, supplying some de- 
tails which stimulated us considerably, and warranted 
further action being taken. 

Some few days after this Inspector Froest and I 
found ourselves at Hull, presumably on the track 
of the supposed murderer, and our first interview, 
acting — as the policemen x)ut it — “upon information 


176 


t)ETE<JnVE STOBIEiS. 


we had received/^ was with aloquacious lodging-house 
keeper — Sb widow — ^who seemed to have an idea that 
the strange foreign gentleman/^ who had recently 
been staying with her would probably turn out to 
be the individual we were searching for, as he was 
so strange in his manner and possessed a watch of 
a peculiar kind. After considerable trouble we tracked 
this man, who was employed on the dock extension 
works, and instead of being the murderer we expected, 
turned out to be a great big, wild, six-feet-six Irish- 
man, fresh from, and redolent of, the turf of Bally- 
shannon, and who, when we approached and spoke 
to him, looked at us suspiciously, raised his spade, 
and threatened ^Hhat, by jabers,’^ he would jist ^^do’^ 
for us, ^‘from his sowl he would, if we came any 
nearer. At this we couldn’t help laughing, in which 
the Irishman himself, when he discovered our mis- 
take, heartily joined also, and offered us such a 
^^chew” out of a large round, engraved. Dutch-metal 
box, holding at least five ounces of baccy,” fastened 
to his belt by a thick brass chain. This was what 
the woman thought was a watch, and this the man 
she imagined a foreigner” — confound her!” 

After trying almost every place and locality we at 
last decided to pay a visit to all the pawnbrokers in 
the town, a list of which we obtained from the local 
police-station, to see if we could trace anything of 
either the cartridge belt or the watch. At the fifth 
shop, situate in Sculcoates, we called at, a watch, 
which had been pawned by a man giving the name 
of Thompson only a month before — the assistant 
could not remember much of the appearance of the 
pawner, upon whose security he had advanced fifteen 
shillings — Avas handed to us answering very closely 


•‘wanted for murder.* 


177 


to the one we required, and upon opening it I 
discovered the number to correspond exactly with 
that given in the ^‘depositions;** we seized it, feeling 
highly elated at the pleasant turn things were taking, 
and prosecuted our enquiries for the belt, but this 
without success. 

We then began to make enquiries respecting 
“Thompson,** by going over all our “ground** and 
run of lodging-house keepers (taking, however, 
greater care this time to guard against loquacious 
and misleading, muddling landladies) again, with the 
result that we received quite sufficient evidence to 
warrant our resolving to visit Newcastle, which we 
did the next day. 

We gathered, during our short stay in Hull, that 
“Thompson** had secured temporary employment 
there as a dock labourer (that he could not have 
much money with him was confirmed by his having 
pawned the watch); therefore, it was not to be 
regarded as improbable that he would perhaps seek 
some work of a like kind at Newcastle, and when 
we arrived there we made a search lasting over tw^o 
days among the hundreds of men employed at the 
docks, but were not rewarded with any success for 
our efforts. We retraced our steps, and spent two 
other days to make thoroughly sure that nothing 
had escaped us, but still remained «nsuccessful. 

Then we visited all the most likely lodging houses 
in the same manner as we had done at the Yorkshire 
chief port; and very tedious work this proved to be 
in this peculiar jagged up-and-down-hill town. No 
trace could be found of “Thompson** or of a German 
or a foreigner, these being the only clues beyond that 
of the watch that we could work upon. 

M 


178 


DETECTIVE STOEIES. 


A week of tMs sort of unsatisfactory and trying 
exeprience damped our spirits somewhat, and we 
began to invoke anything but blessings upon the 
departed shades of the murdered gamekeeper, 
wishing that he and all his Westphalian brethren 
could only have a try at the arduous work them- 
selves, just to see how they would like it, when I 
made a suggestion that we should have a look round 
the collieries and see if our ^^man’^ was likely to be 
there. Half disgusted and very ill-tempered, we set 
off and made inquiries at quite a dozen ‘‘pits” before 
we got anything to repay us for our trouble. “There 
was,” said a grimy “banksman,” a typical Northum- 
brian, passing his rolled-up sleeve across his per- 
spiring face, “a mon deawn ^ere abeawt a week ago, 
a ‘furriner,’ but ^e didn’t seeum to like th’ job, so 
got th’ sack; and I believe ’e’s at th’ railway place 
yon,” pointing to an engine- shed about half a mile 
away. We thanked him, and I gave him a shilling 
and our address, telling him that if he could find 
out or hear anything more of the “furriner” it would 
be quite worth his while to communicate the fact to 
us, and with that we walked over to the engine- 
house, and had a look round the place entirely upon 
our own account, in spite of the notice that 
“trespassers would be prosecuted” when presently 
an official, wjth a red band round his cap, came 
running up to us, and remarked — 

“Well, what do you want here?” 

“Oh,” 1 said, “we are having a look round for a 
friend of ours, a foreigner, whom we are informed 
is engaged in the ‘shed’ somewhere.” 

“But we have no less than a dozen foreigners 
engaged here.” 


.. j .-ua". j! I" '• 'I m iiii!" iMi iij iiuiij jiji iwrnmmmm 


•^WANTED FOR MURDER.” 179 

"Yes; but we want the one who has only very 
recently been engaged. 

"Well, come to my office and I will look tlirough 
the list. I am timekeeper and watchman here, so I 
have all their names and the dates they were ^ taken 
on,’ but look sharp, it’s just dinner time and I have 
to check all the men coming out.” 

So we proceeded, crawling underneath some 
"trucks” to follow him to the office, and were just 
in time to watch the first man go through the turn- 
stile and take his "tally” or number Avith him, which 
each one did from a board fastened against the wall, 
replacing it on a hook when he returned, 

"Would you mind making some excuse or other 
to speak a word or two to each foreigner as he passes 
through?” said L 

" Certainly.” 

And this he did, and to the third foreigner, who 
was the recent employe, he said — 

"How’s your hand this morning, ‘Thompson’?” 

"Much good,” replied that individual, in very bad 
English, showing a dirty rag bound round his thumb, 
and smiling. 

"Did you get that injury whilst shooting the 
gamekeeper in the forest of Kleningberg?” said I, 
enquiringly, in German, as I placed myself in front 
of him, whilst Froest unobservedly went to his rear. 

The colour faded from his face for a few seconds 
and he gasped, but he soon regained his self- 
possession, and very indignantly asked — 

"What do you mean?” 

"Simply this,” said I, producing the watch and 
exhibiting it. 

This was too much for him; he buried his face in 

M 2 


180 


DETECTIVE STORIES, 


his hands and groaned, and went on in an alarming 
manner. When he had settled himself a little, I 
beckoned him into the timekeeper^s little room. We 
searched him carefully, and found on ,him a pocket- 
book in which was an entry to the effect that he left 
Kleningberg the day after the “accident,” as he had 
carefully written it, and in the lining of the thick 
coat he wore was a small bullet about the size of a 
pea, which had worked its way there unknown to him, 
and which corresponded to the two found in the dead 
man’s body. 

The cartridge belt was never found, although the 
prisoner admitted taking it when taxed with its 
whereabouts. I believe myself that he threw it 
overboard whilst crossing to England. Strange to 
say, he had landed almost right under our very 
noses in London, and had he only possessed the 
good sense to stay in the metropolis I don’t think he 
would have been dicovered. 

The pedigree of our prisoner proved upon invest!- 
gatjion to be of more than usual interest, for it was 
discovered that he was the illegitimate son of a well- 
known German of high family, a good-for-nothing 
fellow who had committed many more or less 
grievous offences against the laws of his country. 

One of his crimes had been, some fifteen years 
before, to forge signatures to documents, such as 
mortgage deeds, &c., and so obtain advances of 
money, sometimes to a very considerable amount; 
in fact, he had been guilty of this sort of thing a 
long time before concerning property belonging to 
none other than the murdered gamekeper, and yet 
had managed somehow, in spite of the vigilance of 


WANTED FOR MURDER.’ 


181 


<( 

the authorities, to make good his escape from arrest 
ftud punishment. 

Further than this, he had sacrilegiously entered a 
church in a village not far from the forest in which 
the murder was committed, and stolen a consider- 
able quantity of the communion plate, and success- 
fully negotiated it; and in the year 1881 he distin- 
guished himself — ^when in England before at that 
period, deeming it advisable to seek a temporary 
retreat here — ^by committing a series of very success- 
ful and undetected burglaries in the neighbourhood of 
Brighton, terrorising the inhabitants and mystifying 
the police who made a number of arrests of entirely 
the wrong persons, of course. 

To these crimes might be added many others which 
he had participated in, including the garroting of a 
banker’s clerk, and no less than three acts of incen- 
diarism — ^fortunately in each instance frustrated, 
&c., making up about as pretty ” a list of offences 
as even the most hardened of criminals could possibly 
wish for, and Froest and I felt not a little pride of 
our success in overreaching this villainous vagabond, 
who richly deserved all he got. 

When we got ‘^Thompson to Bow Street, it was 
found advisable, for strong sanitairy reasons, to 
give him a bath, as, judging from his appearance and 
the odoriferous evidence afforded to us^ it was quite 
certain that he could not have enjoyed the luxury" of 
a thorough wash for, at the least, some months past. 
Upon being ordered to strip himself, the inspector 
in charge, holding his nose firmly between his fingers, 
suggested that he should have a preliminary wash 
down before being allowed to partake of the bath; 
but so filthy was this unsavoury, insanitary scamp’s 


182 


DETECTIVE STORIES. 


condition that no one cared to venture within arm^s 
reach of him to carry out the ^‘superior’s ” insti*uc- 
tions, therefore a bucketful of weak solution of car- 
bolic acid was made, and this, as a first instalment 
towards the prisoner's bodily cleansing, was swished 
over him as he stood naked in the open yard; a few 
buckets of water followed suit, and then one of the 
younger policemen, more enterprising than any of 
the others, stepped forward, took off his tunic, 
rolled up his sleeves, procured the station mop and 
a liberal supply of water, and with a hearty good will, 
“ went for ” Thompson, and eventually succeeded in 
taking off, as he said, the “top layer ” of months of 
accumulated matter. We were all, except the pri^ 
soner, much amused at the novel proceeding, and 
after the “wash ” was completed, and when we had 
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JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


“OXFORD” EDITION OF I2MOS. 

The best selection of Classic Fiction, etc., forming a most desirable line of two 
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Price 50 Cents per Volume. 


1 Abbot, The. By Sir Walter Scott. 

2 Adam Bede. By G. Eliot. 

3 ^sop’s Eables. 

4 Airy Fairy Lilian. By The Duchess. 

5 Alice : a Sequel to Ernest Maltravers. By Lytton. 

6 Alhambra. By Washington Irving. 

7 Andersen’s Fairy Tales. 

8 An April Lady. By The Duchess. 

9 An Egyptian Princess. By Georg Ebers. 

10 An Ocean Tragedy. By W. Clark Bussell. 

11 Aurelian. By Wm. Ware. 

12 Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

13 Arabian Nights’ Entertainment. 

14 Arundel Motto, The. By Mary Cecil Hay. 

15 Barnaby Budge. By Charles Dickens. 

16 Baron Munchausen. 

17 Beyond Pardon. By Bertha M. Clay. 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 

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:E01tion ot 12mo6— ContlnueD^ 


18 Birds of Prey.. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

19 Bondman, The. By Hall Caine. 

20 Bride of Lammermoor. By Sir Walter Scott. 

21 Bride of the Nile. By Georg Ebers. 

22 Cast up by the Sea. By Sir Samuel Baker. 

23 Catherine. By W. M. Thackeray. 

24 Chaplet of Pearls. By Charlotte M. Yonge. 

25 Chandos. By Ouida. 

26 Charles Auchester. By E. Berger. 

27 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. Kowson. 

28 Children of the Abbey. By Begina Maria Eoche. 

29 Child’s Histo:|j' of England. By Charles Dickens, 

30 Christmas Stories. By Charles Dickens. 

31 Coming Pace. By Lord Lytton. 

32 Conigsby. By Lord Beaconsfield. 

33 Cousin Pons. By Honore de Balzac. 

34 Crown of Wild Olives. By John Buskin. 

35 Daniel Deronda. By George Eliot. 

36 Deldee ; or, The Iron Hand. By Florence Warden. 

37 Daughter of an Empress, The. By Louisa Muhlbach. 

38 David Copperfield. By Charles Dickens. 

39 Daughter of Heth. By William Black. 

40 Deemster, The. By Hall Caine. 

41 Deerslayer. By J. Fenimore Cooper, 

42 Denis Duval. By W. M. Thackeray. 

43 Dick’s Sweetheart. By The Duchess. 

44 Dombey and Son. By Charles Dickens. 

45 Donal Grant. By George Macdonald. 


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46 Donovan. By Edna Lyall. 

47 Don Quixote. By Cervantes. 

48 Dora Thorne. By Bertha M. Clay. 

49 Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, The. By Charlotte M. 

Yonge. 

50 Duke’s Secret, The. By Bertha M. Clay. 

51 East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood. 

52 Effie Ogilvie. By Mrs. Oliphant. 

53 Egoist, The. By George Meredith. 

54 Ernest Maltravers. By Lord Lytton. 

55 Eugene Aram. By Lord Lytton. 

56 Pair Women. By Mrs. Forrester. 

57 Faith and XJnfaith, By The Duchess. 

58 False Start, A. By Hav^ley Smart. 

59 Far from the Madding Crowd. By Thomas Hardy. 

60 Felix Holt. By George Eliot. 

61 File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau. 

62 First Violin, The. By Jessie Fothergill. 

63 For Lilias. By Bosa Nouchette Carey. 

64 Foul Play. By Charles Eeade. 

65 Flying Dutchman. By W. Clark Bussell. 

66 Frederick the Great and His Court. By Louisa 

Muhlbach. 

67 Gilded Clique, The. By Emile Gaboriau. 

68 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt. 

69 Great Expectations. By Charles Dickens. 

70 Grimm’s Fairy Tales. Illustrated. By the Brothers 

Grimm. 


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IBOttion Of I2mo0— Gontlnue5, 


71 Green Mountain Boys, By Judge D. P. Thompson. 

72 Griffith Gaunt. By Chas. Keade. 

73 Guilderoy. By Ouida. 

74 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 

75 Guy Mannering. By Sir Walter Scott. 

76 Hardy Norseman, A. By Edna Lyall. 

77 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles Lever. 

78 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. 

79 Henry Esmond. By W. M. Thackeray. 

80 House on the Marsh. By Florence Warden. 

81 Hypatia. By Charles Kingsley. 

82 In Peril of His Life. By Emile Gaboriau. 

83 In the Schillingscourt. By E. Marlitt. 

84 Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott. 

85 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte Bronte. 

86 John Halifax. By Miss Mulock. 

87 June. By Mrs. Forrester. 

88 Kenelm Chillingly. By Lord Lytton. 

89 Knickerbocker History of New York. By W. Irving. 

90 Knight-Errant. By Edna Lyall. 

91 Lady Audley’s Secret. By M. E. Braddon. 

92 Last Days of Pompeii. By Lord Lytton. 

93 Last of the Mohicans. By Cooper. 

94 Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce. By Bertha M. Clay. 

95 Lerouge Case. By Emile Gaboriau. 

96 Lorna Doone. By E. D. Blackmore. 

97 Lothair. By Lord Beaconsfield. 

98 Macleod of Dare. By William Black. 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YOHK. 

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BMtion of t2mo6— ConttnucD* 


99 Madcap Violet. By William Black. 

100 Martin Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dickens. 

101 March in the Ranks, A. By Jessie Fothergill. 

102 Masterman Ready. By Marryat. 

103 Master Passion. By Florence Marryat. 

104 Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 

105 Mill on the Floss, By George Eliot. 

106 Molly Bawn. By The Duchess. 

107 Moonstone, The. By W. Collins. 

108 Monastery. By Sir Walter Scott. 

109 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile Gaboriau. 

110 Moths. By Ouida. 

111 Murders in the Rue Morgue. By Poe. 

112 My Heart’s Darling. By W. Heimburg. 

113 My Lord and My Lady. By Mrs. Forrester. 

114 Mystery of Orcival. By Gaboriau. 

115 Mysterious Island, The. By Jules Verne. 

116 Nick of the Woods. By R. M. Bird. 

117 Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens. 

118 No Name. By Wilkie Collins. 

119 Not like Other Girls. By Rosa N. Carey. 

120 Old Curiosity Shop. By Charles Dickens. 

121 Old Mam’selle’s Secret. By E. Marlitt. 

122 Old My ddle ton’s Money. By M. C. Hay. 

123 Oliver Twist. By Charles Dickens. 

124 Only the Governess. By Rosa Nouchette Carey. 

125 Other People’s Money. By Gaboriau. 

126 Othmar. By Ouida. 


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JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


BDition of 12mo6— GontinueO* 


127 Our Mutual Friend. By Charles Dickens. 

128 Owl House, The. By E. Marlitt. 

129 Pair of Blue Eyes, A. By Thomas Hardy. 

130 Pathfinder. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

131 Paul and Virginia, and Kasselas. 

132 Phantom Ship, The. By Marryat. 

133 Pickwick Papers. By Charles Dickens. 

134 Pilgrim's Progress. By John Bunyan. 

135 Pilot, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

136 Pioneer, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

137 Prairie, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

138 Prime Minister, The. By Anthony Trollope. 

139 Princess of the Moor, The. By E. Marlitt. 

140 Queen Hortense. By Louisa Muhlbach. 

141 Bedgauntlet. By Sir Walter Scott. 

142 Bed Bover. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

143 Beproach of Annersley. By Maxwell Gray. 

144 Bhoda Fleming. By George Meredith. 

145 Bobinson Crusoe. By Daniel Defoe. 

146 Bob Boy. By Sir Walter Scott. 

147 Bomance of a Poor Young Man. By Feuillet. 

148 Bory O’More. By Samuel Lover. 

149 Bomola. By Geo. Eliot. 

150 Scottish Chiefs. By Jane Porter. 

151 Search for Basil Lyndhurst. By B. N. Carey. 

152 Second Wife, The. By E. Marlitt. 

153 Sesame and Lilies. By John Buskin. 

154 Set in Diamonds. By Bertha M. Clay. 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
6 : 


John w. Lovell company’s publications. 


BMUon of 12mo0— GonUnueC). 


155 Shandon Bells. By William Black. 

156 Shirley. By Charlotte Bronte. 

157 Silence of Dean Maitland. By Maxwell Gray. 

158 Sketch Book. By Washington Irving. 

159 Spy, The. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 

1 60 Squire’s Legacy. By Mary Cecil Hay. 

161 Antiquary, The. By Sir Walter Scott. 

162 Strange Adventures of a Phaeton. By W. Black. 

163 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. By Bob- 

ert Louis Stevenson. 

164 Strange Story, A. By Lord Lytton. 

165 Sunshine and Boses. By Bertha M. Clay. 

166 Swiss Family Bobinson. 

167 Syrlin. By Ouida. 

168 Tale of Two Cities. By Charles Dickens. 

169 The Young Duke. By Beaconsfield. 

170 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Jane Porter. 

ITl The Countess Eve. By J. H. Shorthouse. 

172 The Fairy of the Alps. By E. Werner. 

173 Three Guardsmen. By Alexandre Dumas. 

174 Tom Brown’s Schooldays. By Thomas Hughes. 

175 Tom Brown at Oxford. By Thomas Hughes. 

176 Tom Cringle’s Log. By Michael Scott. 

177 Tour of the World in 80 Days. By Jules Verne. 

178 Twenty Years After. By Alexandre Dumas. 

179 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. By Jules Verne. 

180 Twice Told Tales. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

181 Two Years Before the Mast. By B. H. Dana, Jr. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 
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W. liO^BLL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


JEDitton Of 12mo0— ContinueO* 


182 Uarda. By Georg Ebers, 

183 Vanity Fair. By W. M. Thackeray. 

184 Vendetta, The. By Balzac. 

185 Vicar of Wakefield. By Oliver Goldsmith. 

186 Vivian Grey. By Lord Beaconsfield. 

187 Vixen. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

188 Waverley. By Sir Walter Scott. 

189 We Two. By Edna Lyall. 

190 Wee Wifie. By Kosa N. Carey. 

191 What’s Mine’s Mine. By George Macdonald, 

192 Whittier’s Poems. By J. G. Whittier. 

193 Widow Bedott Papers. Mrs. Whitcher. 

194 Willy Eeilly. By William Carleton. 

195 Woman’s Face, A. By Mrs. Alexander. 

196 Woman in White, The. By Wilkie Collins. 

197 Woman’s Love Story, A. By Bertha M. Clay. 

198 Wooing O’t. By Mrs. Alexander. 

199 Zanoni. By Lord Lytton. 

200 Zenobia. By Wm. Ware. 


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8 


John w. lovell company’s publications. 


iSbition 

OF 

BOOKS FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 

These are handsome 12mo. volumes, substantially bound in best 
English cloth and stamped from original designs in colored ink and gold, 

PRICE, 75 CENTS PER VOLUME. 

The works have been especially selected from the most noted authors 
of juvenile literature and in every case are works that can be brought into 
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which often follow the reading of low-priced literature. 


Abbott’s Stories for Children. By Jacob Abbott. 
Adventures among the Indians. 

Adventures, iPorest and Frontier. 

Adventures of Famous Travellers. 

Adventures of Famous Sailors. 

Adventures of Kob Eoy, The. By James Grant. 

Afloat in the Forest. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. By Lewis Carroll. 
Audubon the Naturalist. By Mrs. Horace St, John. 
Aunt Diana. By Eosa Nouchette Carey. 

Barbara’s Triumjph. By Mary A. Denison. 

Boy Conqueror. 

Boy Crusoes ; or. The Young Islanders. 

Boys’ and Girls’ Story Book. 

Boy Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Boys in the Forecastle, The. By Geo. H. Coomer. 
Boys of the Bible. 

Boy Slaves. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Boy Tar. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. . 

Bruin. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Bush Boys. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Cast Up by the Sea. By Sir Samuel Baker. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


1Ru0Di 2 ;6Dition— ContmueD* 


Cliff Climbers. By Capt. Mayne Keid, 

Daniel Boone, Life of. 

Children’s Stories. 

Deep Down. By Ballantyne. 

Desert Home. By Capt. Mayne Keid. 

Dick Cheveley. By W. H. G. Kingston. 

Dick Kodney. By J. Grant. 

Eastern Fairy Legends, Current in Southern India. 
Edgeworth’s Parents’ Assistant. 

Edgeworth’s Moral Tales. 

Edgeworth’s Popular Tales. 

Edgeworth’s Classic Tales. 

Eight Years’ Wandering in Ceylon. By Sir S. Baker. 
Eric Dane. By M. White, Jr. 

Erling the Bold. By K. M. BaUantyne. 

Esther. By Kosa N. Carey. 

Famous Boys. 

Famous Men. 

Fire Brigade, The. By E. M. Ballantyne. 

Flag of Distress. By Capt. Mayne Keid. 

Flat Iron for a Farthing, A. By Mrs. Ewing, 

Forest Exiles. By Capt. Mayne Keid. 

Fort PiUow to the End. By William M. Thayer. 

Fort Sumter to Koanoke Island. By Wm. M. Thayer. 
Frank Wildman’s Adventures on Land and Water. By 
Frederick Gerstaecker. 

Gascoyne. By K. M. Ballantyne. 

German Fairy Tales. Translated by Chas. A. Dana. 
Gilbert the Trapper. By Capt. C. M. Ashley. 

Giraffe Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Keid. 

Golden Magnet, The. By G. M. Fenn. 

Grade Goodwin. A Story for Girls. 

Grandfather’s Chair. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Grey Hawk. By James Macaulay. 

Harlie’s Letters. By Jacob Abbott. 

Hauff’s Fairy Tales. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


BDition— Continued 


In Southern Seas. By Frank H. Converse. 

In the Wilds of New Mexico. By G. M. Fenn. 
Jackanapes and Other Tales. By Mrs. Ewing: 

Jack Wheeler. By Capt. David South wick. 

Land of Mystery. By E. H. Jayne. 

Luke Bennet’s Hide Out. By Capt. C. B. Ashley. 
Magician's Show-box, The, and Other Stories. 

Mark Seaworth. By W. H. G. Kingston. 

Merle’s Crusade. By Eosa N. Carey. 

Midshipman, The. By W. H. G. Kingston. 

Mountain Cave, The. By Geo. H. Coomer. 

Murfreesboro to Fort Pillow. By William M. Thayer. 
Mystery of a Diamond, The. By Frank H. Converse. 
Nature’s Young Nobleman. By Brooks McCormick. 
Number 91. By Arthur Lee Putnam. 

Ocean Waifa By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Odd People. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Old Merry’s Travels on the Continent. 

On the Trail of Geronimo. By E. H. Jayne. 

Oriental Fairy Tales. 

Our Young Soldiers. By Lieut. W. E. Hamilton. 

Paul Blake. Adventures of a Boy in the Island of Cor- 
sica, etc. 

Perils of the Jungle. By Lieut. E. H. Jayne. 

Peter the Whaler. By W. H. G. Kingston. 

Pirate Island. By Harry Collingwood. 

Plant Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Popular Natural History. 

Ean Away to Sea. By Capt. Mayne Eeid. 

Eed Eric, The. By R M. Ballantyne. 

Eille and Hound in Ceylon, The. By Sir Samuel Baker. 
Roanoke Island to Murfreesboro. By Wm. M. Thayer. 
Robin Hood and His Merry Forresters. 

Round the World. By W. H. G. Kingston. 

Salt Water. By W. H, G. Kingston. 

Sandford and Merton. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY’S PUBLICATIONS. 


Bbitlon— Continued. 


Scliool Life ; or, Three Tears at Wolvertori. 

Smuggler's Cave, The. By Annie Ashmore. 

Spanish Fairy Tales. 

Stones about Animals. By Capt. Mayne Beid. 

Stories from American History. 

Through the Looking Glass. By Lewis Carroll. 

Tiger Prince, The. By William Dalton. 

Tom Tracy. By Arthur Lee Putnam. 

Twice Told Tales. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Voyage to the Gold Coast, A. By Frank H. Converse. 
War Tiger, The. By William Dalton. 

White Elephant, The. By William Dalton. 

White Mustang, The. By B. H. Jayne. 

Wild Sports in the Far W^est. By Frederick Gerstaecker. 
Wolf Boy in China, The. By William Dalton. 

Wonders of the Great Deep. By P. H. Gosse. 

Young Acrobat. By Horatio Alger. 

Young Adventurer. 

Young Foresters, The, and Other Tales. 

Young Folks' Book of Birds. 

Young Folks' Book of Book. 

Young Folks' History of France. By C. M. Yonge. 

Young Folks' History of Germany. By C. M Yonge. 
Young Folks’ History of Greece. 

Young Folks' Histor}’- of Borne. 

Young Voyagers. By Capt. Mayne Beid. 

Young Yagers. By Capt. Mayne Beid. 

Young Folks' Historical Tales. By William and Bobert 
Chambers. 

Young Folks' Tales of Adventures. By William and Bob- 
ert Chambers. 

Young Folks' Popular Tales. By William and Bobert 
Chambers. 

Young Folks' Scottish Tales. By William and Bobert 
Chambers. 

Young Folks' Natural History. 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, NEW YORK. 



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